Nocture Surfer
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The pink honeycomb provided a mysterious grace,
Warrior with a sloth-purse unclosed wound.
Sargassum, barefoot hollow woman,
As if such an object could meet my canonic sound.
Soak my feet in cool moist sand,
And juncture to the purple sunset over the sea-bound.
Slowpoke chucklehead hump and heave its swarm,
Create a hole in the caliginous maroon of the unfound.
Until she's done and back to the ocean,
I set and bout her unreal breath with the ground.
This sea a ford motor stimulates altitudinous,
It evokes in me how all designs breathe and drown.
Ocean waves are noisy
like the rain dexterously pours down.
Written: October 10, 2022
Copyright © Sotto Poet | Year Posted 2022
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