Standing by a body of water. Moving or standing still
in the dark green depths my soul finds its own level

Lost in a mirror of infinite margins. Ever sounding
on and on. Perpetual arms pull me under lights silver sheets
tossed with wind and waves where a coiled muscle
gives up a perfect word. I come with only a fever to offer
far from the dried carnations in summer's throat
and certain birds that pierce the air with an agonizing cry
I come to wash and be clean. To drown in my immensity

Baptized by a spray of distant sky. In sympathetic response
the surface repeats the hypnotic patterns of my longing
again and again. Swimming out to the breaking pages before me
with only a parched fountain to offer. Far from the sun's
entrenched lullaby of insect music and the worried sleep
that parts with a film of sweat and dust. I come to be carried
away through the charitable doors that open on the shore

Standing by a body of water. Moving or standing still
In the dark green depths my soul finds its own level