what do you do when you're infinitesimal?

you are:
a speck of emotion
being tugged along a tide
of infinite possibilities.

this sea is a whale who swallows galaxies whole
and, try as you might,
your name isn't jonah.

so, what can you taste of our
ethyl formate universe?
can you gather matter in your fingers like
cotton candy?
let it drip from your tongue like liquor?

or are we all just stardust in the belly of a whale,
begging to taste the fruit of creation?