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See these waves are much better at slamming than I am-

The most my pulse amounts to is a soft knock-

When I skip stones the water spits them out again- puckering lemon squeeze, I sneeze 

and it dissolves to a casual skiff 

that floats on your sea-

a proverbial riff

with only a black coal map crushed diamond mine sky

to navigate-

I break on your crest with a smash 

and it floods me negative on negative 

form completing completely 

The water enters my pores 

and I absorb it

swallowing in great stone tombs 

it can only end in storm you see- 

and we can't measure the loss in seconds for your breaking rocks the boat and disrupts the swing of the

 pendulum, a more meticulous machine is required-

something with cogs and screws- I think 

you'll find the mind is 

inadequate- and stars aren't sun cloud burn throughs 

so we are left to lesser devices- 

I can measure the days  in  goosebumps and freckles or 

other transient things- 

each circle completes itself- Why do we say waves break? 

I could think of better things if I tried-

these waters are uncharted 

there is no dove and olive branch

so the sea swarms 

and we defer to the celestial bodies 

it's all angles up there 

competing tessellates 

and we tear at the edges of the sky with our transversals 

we forge maps out of the paths

of our veins 

small blue currents of surging heart

it all sails off my edge 

Niagara-esque 

Until I'm translucent- An empty 

bell jar