Pelagic

 
‘What do you need?’ you ask me and each time you do,
a new moon spins between earth and sun, and the pull
in between is the sea swell on shimmer tides.

‘Tell me,’ you say, drawing my bow line closer.
The waves rise, the trance sails unfurl in a glow eclipsed
only by the silver-white sun lick across the surface.

Horizon melodies outline our eyes, as perpetuity rolls on
in slow strokes — sky… sea… sky… sea… sky… deep
heaves, gliding high on the crests, where lifted waves shake…

Foam crashes, breaking shudders, I’m immersed in your name.