Unmoved, you hold the expanse of the sea
in your palm, outstretched melody of sense.
Dust shudders in the black gnats of stars.
The pulse of the tide moves with your hand,
your longing undoes the thread on the shroud.
Cut back your losses in an extravagance
of senses entwined, foam enraged on the rocks.
Knife in hand, rise free from waiting and pain:
the pattern undone, your own voyage begins.