My Human Disguise.
Even today, humid, with a warm breeze,
The sea, calm as ice right up to the shore,
Is a place they can’t love and can’t ignore.
It’s a canard that the horizon frees
One’s wishes until they are all one sees.
The water is only the place where breath
Stops, where a man can’t walk or even swim
The distance between disaster and death.
The beach is a sand glass filled to the brim
With liquid you can’t drink without dying.
How much of sand is crushed bone still drying?
The women chat of things both gay and grim.
They’d scoff at the idea of the sea’s gift
And fear most the daily threat in sea drift.