Soloist In The Sea’s Cathedral

The waves weigh legendry currents’ ways
And the spools of the pilgrims’ polar poles
Gasping for breath in gapped gales’ gauge
To terminate twilight’s terminal territories

My rafter is a soloist in the sea’s cathedral
Where sonorous scales sing and gills grace
Beneath the flaming chains of rift feathers
Under the canopies of the greasing clouds

The waves are pupils in rumpled uniforms
Bowing down upon the shadowy canopies
Wailing to treat their railing shore injuries
With fury zooming out of their dark brows

The ships galloping like tired mighty mares
Hiss, yawn, groan and roar and grin on raft
To write and right the wrong with the gong
Based on the song sang to scale sufferance



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