say what you will
not as air hides
    stone, hard, yet worn by
        delicately relentless water
        revealing the flow
    to power --
        the deep blue sun
    whose crushing depths
    rise to a shimmering surface
        while even higher mists float
        risen by winds
    then pales to the unbound
space within

a stone breath pushed between
the tides of two bodies
    synchronized in silhouette
    where strength and warm unite
forged by a rhythm to greater sums
than can be remembered
   unfixed in the ravel of time
   full through the core

a wind and its airs, or water
stone face pressed on
like Neanderthal arrowheads
directed by fear to a image
    of the stone sky
    which binds all thought
back from harmony
or rich imaginings of a hunt
spread across flat stone
    like an empty snow of hope
    that relieves choice
proving a reason to rage:
Destiny! where

all choice an exercise
    in sabotage
    there is comfort
in ending
    the stone face cleared

how far stone sinks in blue
    waves rich with air
before crushing into sand
that span the sea

to the edges of all
form that breaks ashore