Seascapes

Mind, why sick? The air
Trembles, fingers
Rip the anchored tides, diseased!
A roaring ocean. Can't you look for pebbles?
So many pebbles for a nice rock. Then
What about the foam that broths
The bay's cold throat? -- Baying, something strong
To the trunk. Raging when the clouds
Whistle like stopgaps, formless vagaries, lions, liaisons:
Gazelles. Frequent quaking inverting mountains
Into water! Whirlpools. I like the hum -- if the tears
Would thrash me, slam me through dizzying apertures
And dangle me above sea kingdom's crux and flux
Sparkling of the sharp rocks, perched abyss
Ready to plunge and swoop like gulls for a fish...
Oh madness take me any way. Blue, I want
Everything to be blue, azured cillements,
Caerulean coquillage, none of this dripping green.
Frosts: in the winter could the heaving mass freeze over?
I am one ever on the edge who wants to be burned
By ascending suns, and turns
To your falling embrace. Cast the shattering:
If the nights are glossy, we'll have always
The chocolates of darkness.