Kelp grows up to eighteen inches a day.
The common housefly lives a month.
Building the Golden Gate Bridge took
the lives of eleven workers.
I have forgotten everything
I meant to live by.
Kelp is consumed by sea creatures
and I also by appetite.
A beam of sunlight causes
my wings to stutter, slow.
I sacrificed many lives to bridge
my opposing desires, quiet
and daring, the ecosystem
that lives like a kelp forest in me.
The shells of my attempts wash
onto the shore, shining, empty.