In mists you venture
by the drifting inland sea.
You were left alone, in the dark,
with untimely soul
that flows through its channel and captivates me.

the fertilized womb
that it was a field of land to nurture.
blood will have spilled
by force of insisting
in shadows of the moons to come.

And the seas you sail
while you fill the view with sweetness
in noble winds you arrive
to the pure shores
there where the amazement you configure.

what will become of that mist
without cultivating the land of love.
Its foam remains on beaches:
the sharp glow
that kisses beauty with pain.