Afternoons of Oceanic Sadness

Leaning into the afternoons. I cast my sad nets

towards your oceanic eyes. They're in the highest place. My solitude lengthens

and flames, its arms turning like a drowning man's I send out

red signals across your absent eyes. That move like the sea

near a lighthouse. You keep only darkness, my distant female. From your regards,

sometimes the coast of dread emerges. Leaning into the afternoons.

I fling my sad nets to that sea that beats

on your marine eyes. The birds of night peck at