A widening gap occurs between the being and the landmass and the abode. Dispersed beneath the water is an opaque blossoming, reminiscent of flooded ruins. One doubts that it could move at all, though many ruins were once bodies; they contain inside their enormous appendages eggs that strive for elsewhere; the being also strives for another, a shelter that could fit its heavy quiescence — before it loses even that, the sea no longer another.