Monday, September 20, 2010

meraviglioso il mare

Could it be, fate
takes again, promised breath
swelling birth jabs at late tide
awash with black weed tangle

I could not tell of
the great lap angle swell
clutching the shells and stones
want of solid's surface

bleed salt break liquid
on velvet shore pouring
the luxury of smooth
sooth topping inclined




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