He is rock and how untouched
Bound tight in his own permanence
The moon’s indifference.
He envies the hard, shining pebbles, licked smooth
And spat like teeth from the Sea’s lips.
Somewhere in all that skull ringing blue
There’s a wail sifting through gloom
Barnacled lips agape
Her tongue a harpoon
Guts a great net
She can teach him to bleed with the moon,
From between her pillaring ribs
Grieve every wick he has lit
Every slick of soap he’s scrubbed himself with
And beg his forgiveness.
She will dismantle him to shingle
Fill his pink hollows with echoes
Of the tide
There will be parts of him and Her
On shores that know only too well of oil spill