My body is a body of blue,
of brilliance,
of power,
of great depth too.
My hands they weave,
and rise,
and bend,
until the lives,
of many end.
My face is invisible,
strong,
and tricky.
It changes,
and whips,
and turns hair sticky.
My heart does lie,
in a ribcage of sand,
that beats,
and convulses,
‘til it moves the land.
My warning is obvious,
but often looked past,
as small boats turn over,
whilst my hands take the mast.