a cold silver spoon
at the back of my neck -
is that you?
wet fingers touching
my curls
aquatic as ever, down river
flowing in steady rushes
dripping light
your azureness, your sky
blue, flung over me
your rain hanging
in the unseen fissures
of storm
a cornflower choir
in a twilight sea
you
is that you?
my siren, my foghorn
i hear you
hear your moon
hear your cries and
your prayer-wheel
turning
i hear your
onomatopoetic call
my blue tide lover
it is you
it is
you
excuse me as i crack
the tap and step
into the breakers
i am long gone
my watercourse
flashing contrast
to the sky
(ocean from iceland, 16 years ago // face from last year, mine // poem timeless, written around 2000, also mine )
http://www.flickr.com/photos/panta/
