(Resting On Homolsom)
Where rain creeps (slides)
cat-paw over rocks
And gathering the shadows that are (our)
memories, I create anew
(our) lives, (our) deaths
(Both) eyes and skin pale,
like fire in ice,
and the fire burning out;
(Our) love a thin wake-line:
phosphorescent scars in this mourning light
Struck by flame
the storm-rock point
mocks the sea-wave’s reach
(And) bound by time
my wrist turns a sceptre gold:
(each) remembrance ebbs and goes.