So much depends
upon...

Is lithe and small
And not really...

The wind whirls and grey
spirals twist my pupils...

There was only heaven and the sea,
and a brief wind among the stars...

Rise, then fall
surge and flame...

When does it become too
late to want...

I am drowning
in the tidal waves I've swallowed...

...a maelstrom
curses...

Perhaps
the time I saw you...

Like pennies in a wishing well
bouncing...

I struggle with the button on my jeans. Jacket...

Perhaps today
will be inspiring...