At last, to end, do not return to your sea-stone. Ocean Lady, my soul, southern amber and grace.

On our ship, 
our earth,
we receive the pollen and 
    fish of distant isle,
listening, listening
to the faraway whisper and 
    barcarole,
the sunrise ritual of lost oars.

Ocean Lady,
I am just someone who hoped 
for you in the tower of an ethereal 
    lighthouse,
and this is the story where only one 
    tide surges...
your aquamarine breasts beneath
    night's radiance.

There are only two truths in this
    sonata:
your two dark eyes, open in the water.