Would this be the force to bring me down?
Earthquakes phase not this southern-sunward body;
Tidal wave
After wave of sorrows have not so
violently harmed the flesh of so young
A flower.


And yes it is no more fault than Opus
Or Octave, though without any eight cresting most recent waves,
That while April springs new life
mine should end
Full of daisies.

So here is the undertow of my life
Choice made easy by my sea’s demand:
my death first
Sacrifice for pollen.


Like a follower of sunsets into impossible horizons
Struggle against their depths and be surprised; find it
Worth the thorns.


Drag myself from the oceans dripping
As a waterlily, but alive


She will be Lily.