See his eyes, a brown-green sea.
Storms of feelings surge to me;
They wash and leave me dripping, cold, and pale.
Things are floating in the swim;
Things I can't return to him.
A helpless, rising shriek becomes a wail.
For he knows
My heart goes
To one who climbs
A mountain near
The shore.
Grey and formless is my mood.
Disembodied, in the nude,
I soar above the three
The mountain
And the sea
And me.