Torrents and tides we can predict, and give fair warning to
the misfortunate body-affixed souls in their paths
- unless a levy break, or the ocean floor heave
dislodging peace with water -
to put height or solid shelter between their
fragility and the crush.
And yet the treacherous fluid motion
the steaming reaction of clashing humours
the drunken roll and pitch
the self-afflicted heaving
the mind-blank, roaring, rigor mortis clutch
of the desire of woman and man
breaks all models
leaving behind shards, and blood.
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