Maybe in undertow, I’ll find your shape,
From coral hollows, learn escape.
Through cosmic maps where tides collide,
Find hymned frequencies we define.

In the haze of this forgotten place,
Let me find your friendly face.
Your silence draws topographies,
And our echoes, new mythologies.

‘Cause we’re crest-lines, fading light,
Whispered promise, fatal flight.
Forever sun, my haven in the night,
Longing still, give me fight.

The distance wears your name,
It stokes a longing flame.
Once unburdened by the bourbon—now,
A love song, wild, untamed.
Maimed then tamed, my strings remain,
Burn me with your sweet refrain.

Drift me down where silence hums,
Through wrecks of all we’ve come undone.
Stars dissolve beneath the foam—
Your every light leads me home.

The distance wears your name,
It stokes the longing flame.
Once unanchored by the ocean—now,
I’m clinging to your frame.
Maimed then tamed, some strings remain,
Burning through divine refrain.




Of horizon; 

of soaring seven feet above unwavering ocean, 
speeding fast and high above
the separated distance
like inches from lips.
Mountainous waves stretching higher and taller
towards 
(gravitated by?) 
all the tribulations
now steadfast and proud. 
The swirls of blue enrapture, this tempest siren of sirens swirling as I —

…towards horizon;

in lieu of this shambled raft I grasp – 
buckling under the rapture of this storm’s content,
I see no Sun. 
These blue walls turned shadows
threatening collapse and promising pummel;
tackled to the depths no creature has known
as shadow turns dark – 
and Oblivion, 
Oh(!), 
of the thalassic lateral depraved entirely –

…of horizon.
I dream.