I wish I could find Another Word One plucked from a Chicken or Snagged to a line But all I have is Drift You Laughing Like a drunken Gondolier This momentous Rise of horns And the little Spittles of foam That froth at Our legs The sea Creates you A scarf And you turn To look at me Your eyes Drifting Through the notes Around me Sweet Music Who are you If not mine To keep