Locked by the fingers, but something still runs free.
Stirring up seeds in a place that can't be seen.

Above us the sea sizzles, the sky burns at our feet. I'll hear her voice for centuries.
Taste her lips in every fool I kiss. Breathing malaria into my hips.

For what no man can be she is, sees all, feels all and brushes it under your feet.
Her rust fingers find the zing of metals; from first to fourth mirrors burst, life calcifies.  

There's still sand under my toenails, salt crystals in my eyes. Marooned where too much lives and in the surf I'll lie.