'the state of love in the world...'
...................she whispers
.........tendril of a curl curves
around her cheek, brush
stroke of honey-toned
watercolour; her eyes, full and
frightened, water saffire
..........her lips, parsed & pale, she
hovers on a scallop sea shell
above the waves, though she is tossed
to & fro by the windswept whitecaps
..........her voice a lament,
a soprano singing the ending of
Mahler's Ninth, grief disappearing
but never leaving,
the wind blows more strongly
until she's gone, a pearl of the sea
into the white horizon
..........echoing in the conch shells
held to our ears, her voice
ringing over rising waves, 'we do not
put each other first'
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
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