Sea

 The Sea called--I lay on the rocks and said:
"I am come.
"
She mocked and showed her teeth,
Stretching out her long green arms.

"Go away!" she thundered.

"Then tell me what I am to do," I begged.

"If I leave you, you will not be silent,
But cry my name in the cities
And wistfully entreat me in the plains and forests;
All else I forsake to come to you--what must I do?"
"Never have I uttered your name," snarled the Sea.

"There is no more of me in your body
Than the little salt tears you are frightened of shedding.

What can you know of my love on your brown rock
pillow.
.
.
.

Come closer.
"

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