I am not here to watch black water rise,
Or reach what I can not: the inlet’s stillness
Lapping shoreless wooded promontories.

I do not approach stone for some new sunrise
Or to wonder over unlikely bliss,
Not for any invisible thing. Seas

Exist which do not heal, instead destroy
The best in every heart, punish all hope.
No, I am here for Beauty: desire or

Tangibles. No future plot or dark ploy
Roils but white arcs swoop in kaleidoscope
Dive; black-throated birds on water’s mirror

Feed mouth-to-mouth, immediate kisses.
Here, I write and a grief diminishes.