now that your lips move and your breath is heavy-wet with burnt orange sighs, your eyes too deep to see me
from so much love away... now that your arms merry-go-round my wasteland, swirling languorous in lust, unarmed... you are the embers of lost ice, gathered on the farside of dead-center, more alive than krill, clinging to baleen and waterfalls, in the toothless maw of leviathans.

You're mine, again -
And out
to Sea.