with hardened grit from many grains of time
stark and solid
days cleave from a stone
he is spinning through the sea
sinking deep into her columns
where the vertigo is vivid
past the current's pushes
before it pulls him in again
he is rocking with the tide
traces of us come in many waves
as weathered faces find their form
waters which bring us ruin in the storm
guard the flesh, fill the souls of these
illuminated silhouettes of ribbon
he is washing up on the shore
our bodies bind for moments
in delightful, perfect tangles
pausing before throwing ourselves in
to drown out the insanity
of teasing delicate senses with calamity
pebbles pooling on the bottom
find their rest after all
the ocean's fateful strokes
he is rounded, smoothed and
softened
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