I see your knees awash in waves of silk
Folding and spreading on your pale skin
Just like surf on white sandy beach.
The sound of the sea is never ending word
Uttered indifferently with no count
With unnumbered creatures gone
To the beat of the triumph of the planet
Their lives are at the heart and periphery
Of our thoughts and desires
Mocking our ascension to the place
Where we can see ourselves
Beyond the image in still water.
What remains for us is the argument
Between the sea and the self.
For all our consciousness and love
It continues in the promises
We make to each other.
