Beneath the earth and sky we seek
A wild temper, enraptured beast.
With saltwater stains and mildew eyes,
I breach cold stone with heavy breath.
A widowed net in the forlorn tide,
Rolling hills of wind beckon with
Trembling songs, bated yet nary long.
I speak with the words of a million stars,
A thousand doves in the cage of my heart.
My soul is winded, akin to darkened brass
And amber stones. My moon-branch spine is wired
To meet with the string between my ocean veins.
The sun is gold and bronze, shrouded with stars
Of silver and opal, unbridled both are they.
A temper forbidden, aged with the verse
Of willow leaves, stems of moss and
Silent shadows that have been deceived.
I counter the bridge between my knuckles,
Iron-lead and benign with fickle sand.
Of mist-filled skies and jaded tongue,
I keep hold of the rainstead in my lungs.