My tendency to be acute in my relations to the world is the very thing that makes me withdraw so often.

.

What do I say to the moon

    so alive in mock darkness?

The sea flays itself unto rocks

    grinding them to sand

Gravitating in eternal unrest.

The Sea speaks;

      Dear distant one, 

I send the winds beseeching you

      I swallow the earth raw for you

Will you not release me?

In silence, 

       the moon is unyielding.

.

Tempest you have taken my mind
left me gazing at the moon
       talking to the winds.

The winds have thrown me off its back        

       gone silent
I have fallen from the Sun

       I am haunted by the Sea

I shall pack my bones
        retire to the desert.