Black waves
Night waves
Yawning waves with night-filled mouths
Yawning and collapsing
Pulled back by the ocean,
the never-sleeping ocean,
the always-tossing
always- turning
late-night phosphorous candles burning
Ocean.
Pulled back, finger trails in the sand.
These waves, these oceanic insomniacs,
Always yawning
Always pulled back.

Black waves
Night waves
Ghosts in sheets of foam
Rattling night-wind chains.
Black waves
Spectral waves
Old waves white-haired,
groaning,
Born at the edge of the world waves
Dead on the beach waves.
Graveyard waves
splayed on the black soil beach
seaweed skulls tumbling, night-blind
in the black waves.

Black waves
Cyclops eyes wink back our bonfire
Night waves
pulled up into conch-shell curls
Our night-talks curled up and swallowed.
Black waves heavy with saffrons of the sea:
salts and sharp fish-smells,
Secrets of the deep,
Where romance glows squid-bright.
Black waves
Night waves
Our waves.
Each its own, a hidden snowflake
Black against the black
The night black
The sand black.
These waves who raise their white heads
And see us as they yawn.
And perhaps wonder
Where these two will go
Once the edge of the world has crept to their feet.
Where will they collapse,
These shoreline insomniacs?
Black waves
Do they wave hello or goodbye?
Do they shoo us away
these night waves?
Or bid us closer?
Their mute roars
Their yawns
Their stampede voices
Call out along the shore
Along the coast
Night waves
Black waves
Words in the night.