Shipwreck

The water calls for more daughters.
Cracking trees with sea-teeth,
the oblique sleet of shrapnel night:
reclaiming pearls on a princess neck.
Founder, founder, down to deeper anchor.
A grave that closes before the lips are cold.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s