Nicole Vacherot|

Seas in swoon; I sit upon its lapping shore
Diminutive swells of froth swallow my days
I drown unsung beneath it waves; no more
To heave tarpaulin of salty lipped bouquets
Upon the lap of boreal dunes; castle worn
Inhumed in shoals of weary undertow dais
My tiny deaths beneath pale scintilla frieze
I, winter's paramour blued in bijou seas