The ocean never asked
who I was.
It only threw itself at the hull,
again and again,
daring me
to hold my ground
on something that never stood still.

Salt in my mouth,
steel beneath my boots,
wind sharp enough
to slice thought from bone.
No sky,
only motion-
gray,endless,alive.

I sailed not for glory
but because the sea die not lie.
It had no medals,
no masks,
only truth in waves
and the silence between storms.

Some nights,
the ship groaned like an old God.
And I stood there,
part of it-
half man,
half memory,
still listening
for the next roar.