the light hits the sea-cliff harshly,
biting off a slice of its rocky soul,
drags it deep into the rushing,
drowns it among drunken sorrows
as the gulls above scream
with piercing funeral calls
to mark their grief—
pebbles rounded by sweet sincerity
lie thick and heavy in their graves,
smooth as familiar kisses,
smelling of sea and salty regret,
picked up and tossed into an
unforgiving and devouring ocean:
a desperate sacrifice to the gods—
liquid steel water
stirred cold by the tears of the gods
sweeps gently onto the land,
begs its mother not to reject it
but is pushed back
into its own throat
to gurgle softly
and retreat once more—
the horizon line drops upward
guided ever forward by relentless cerulean;
small boats dance
at the edge of such eternity,
unaware of the danger that may
throw them on towards
the lining of humanity and the
stitches of the world.
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