a pinewood boat pushes
imbuing the saltsea with evergreen
lying numb blue in the cold seabed i
reached up into a whish of warm
knew i then she was a-sail above
the undulations of the cold sea a fraction
as beautiful as a silk strap
snapped into her skin i icily dared
poor beautiful swimming fish
closing saltburn eyes i know
the animals are losing
and wants are winning
and cants are sickly sweetly spinning
the oh so gorgeous captain cannot
(honeysuckled braids)
her lures' shadows discern
yet they sharply stripe the sea
a-writhe like heat
from her darling boat (young pinewood!)
one invisible line especially finds me
half-buried in cold sea-gravel
it flashing in quivers of dull sealight
the gold hook, stinging like unwanted fate
grabs the corner of my mouth
inspiring a bloodcloud to coldly bloom
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