i am made of sand
i am made of paper
i am made of glass
i am made of water
and the sea has taken him
the one i might have been
and given me what i am
Demeter has had her way.
and now across these gates
a constellation
the bow-man row me away
on the black-cloak horizon
weeping on wings of wind
widows walk
they said this landscape was built by men
and my dark ships departed
now the tattered sails wash up
and i paint the canvas with blood
always thought (in my youth) ...
the mirror says death is a lover
the sea from which i came
reminds me what i am
made in her name
i am of the wind
i am of the waves
i am of the unseen
i am of the other