The soft overture of wind on water,
a half-moon door, a climb through the spiralled shell
inside, sea air coaxing me up, up,
at the top, hands on thin railing,
a sole witness among many witnesses,
if only for this different view, this opened height,
looking down carefully, the beach
slivering as the green encroaches upon it,
the water, blue and turning,
something about this must mean lust,
the sun setting, blurred,
the waves leaking from the sky,
lapping at the heart, the sea
draws me from every height.
a half-moon door, a climb through the spiralled shell
inside, sea air coaxing me up, up,
at the top, hands on thin railing,
a sole witness among many witnesses,
if only for this different view, this opened height,
looking down carefully, the beach
slivering as the green encroaches upon it,
the water, blue and turning,
something about this must mean lust,
the sun setting, blurred,
the waves leaking from the sky,
lapping at the heart, the sea
draws me from every height.