seven hundred and two poetry sink somewhere in the pacific swallowed perhaps by the waves of this cold black ocean as their sandals wash ashore: and this we cannot even begin to comprehend despite our in tern et a cc e s s. Share this: Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on X (Opens in new window) X Like Loading...