Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets
towards your oceanic eyes.There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,
its arms turning like a drowning man’s.I send out red signals across your absent eyes
that smell like the sea or the beach by a lighthouse.You keep only darkness, my distant female,
from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges.Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets
to that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes.The birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when I love you.The night gallops on its shadowy mare
shedding blue tassels over the land.