The pitch-black roar of the sea
On a moonless night
Is the prayer on my lips
Within the swell of a crowd

The pattering hail
Of a winter storm
On a tin terrace roof
Lights the hearth in my chest

The chords of a bass
In a dim café
Dulls my urge to dive
Into solitude’s hands

The kiss, long ago
In the glow of dusk
Keeps my body in flight,
Over a maze of ruins