HIGH GREY SPRAY COVERS THE SUN'S BLOWS
AND SO I CANNOT TURN ITS COLOUR.
CLEFT OF SMASHED STONE
AND GLASS THALASSAS
- UNDER THE COLOUR OF SADNESS -
IS A VIBRANT BORDER,
HISSING AND ENCROACHING
LITTLE BY LITTLE,
A TENTATIVE STEP FORWARD BUT NO REAL THREAT.
TAP
PAT
OF OTHERS' PRESENCE
BLENDS WITH WORDS I CAN'T SPEAK YET.
THIS LAND'S GASP COATS MY SKIN IN DUST
AND
I BREATHE SALT
AS I CATCH THE RED PETAL OF HER RETURN
ALONG THE CONSTANT SHORE.