Lily-eyed and with a voice rendered 
Fresh amidst the sea-salt breeze
I sink my teeth into words

Devourer with a desire to breath life
With the rejuvenation of the old pages
Of tears and bone

Bloodstream wild pulse.
My soul in its nascent state
My inkhorn
Ally and protector, beloved

My mind
Womb to all things I must set ablaze
In the moonlight.

Testament to the Shore in the North

In the midst of all this

           Let me know

  If I, or you can
           Probably if possible

To rewrite the stars

     With Orion's inkhorn