Sunday, September 20, 2009

First, the sea.

James Abbott McNeil Whistler (attributed) Untitled seascape (American 19 c.)

First the sea, and I will gain everything from this.

How do I get away from You?
Closer to You?

I've lost everything in the white circles and
You, Drenching and Swollen Drenching Superiority

You host everything.

I can't come back.
If I begged and left the rent motes of my pride,
And begged
And if I came to you with my bare arms,
And without surprise, gainless,
And without anything in my dry throat but the reaching for You

Could I come back and belong to You?

I know. I know. I see the way It lights on You. Let me sit here.

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