I am a lake without a choice.
Matter thrown inside sinks out of sight and mind,
lost in the reservoir– decomposses.
Becoming part of the waters, blending with foreign archaic sediment.

But waters recede,
Sediment takes form.

I see clearly the solid refuse.
I am not a lake, I have a voice,
and sound waves distort reflections of you.

I have mass.

Enough to throw down like a hammer and shatter offshore rubble.
Fossils remain like battle scars that tattoo my solid, solid form.

I am not a lake, my body another kind.
I am a warrior clad in titanium, echoing cries that insist victory.
Ablaze with sun that dries spittle from existence.