In the Ocean

The sea strums my hair
inks my dry paper-armor,
kisses softly all the sheen
off my bones,
unwinds all their breath
on a tear-tasseled kite,
a shell-ripple wind soaking
into the sky.

Then it leaves me
where it sifts in the sand,
seeps coldly into me
away from its long, wide pulse
before it is found;
my sleep scatters in its sigh
as it breaks my words, so
small
in the hollow of its roar,
on gleaming silver scales
heaving against my heart.