The ocean

was always there, always

the edge, always the limitless

limit, breaking, whole.

Always. Nights, in the distance,

the stars fell and fell

without end. Nights!

And the women, moving

or still, underneath

or above. Always, the ocean

and the setting of suns

dusk after dusk, and the heart

as it opened: the world!

The salt-scent of bodies,

the whispers of lovers,

the cool sheets, rustling leaves…

On the cold sand, at night,

we would sit staring out

at a world turning dark,

not sure of what was to come –

and, always, the ocean was there.



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