speak to me memory the language of seagulls
behind the hills behind the sweating sight
beds of sand tatooed by sudden wind
curved and open crevices particles of the skin of earth
with snake linear language
where the path into the cliff blue turns white foaming
air seeped through the stones ethereal as moans of this dry land
disconnected lay dormant following the wind of others
elevated lyrical images
of islands in high sea half to light half to gray _darkness
strains of memories
wave rolling wave to become equal in motion… in distance
into my mind to capture the essence
aqua choreography
the barren chest of isles producing depth not seen
by my sweeping cantos of self unity
sounds magical lured by the cardiac tunes
murmuring the language of skin and love songs

speak to me speak to me memory the language of seagulls