River Brine

River gray of salty brine
Wrapped around a coral spine
Towards the depths the doll divines
Sea of salt, salt like mine
Past a wreck of armored planes
Where the squid and clownish lay
So it was without and in
CO2, nitrogen
Driven by a need to know
Stepped into the undertow
Towards the depths the doll descends
Looking for the ocean’s end
When the moon was full and low
Writing by afterglow
Ledger lines and measurements
To their doll a bottle sent