Till My Hot Blood Feeds The Ground

………Crushed!
I carefully overlay my ink
and redefine my heartfelt loss,
where I place these weathered notes
in my precious sack of cloth.

My Queen,

A wild storm has plagued us and my letters lost,
delivered to the bottom of the sea, unread,
undefiled save that some creature’s cold curiosity
should touch them and weep, alone in their content
and as such their meaning shall remain pure.
They envision stars on their fiery quest
and beg the sweet mercies that faith be found
so great these beats vibrating in my chest
that bleeds my world, till my hot blood feeds the ground.
Words that attack and molt my calloused skin,
a transparent shell left by love’s unanswered door,
a place of death! In strife my words begin
to roil the depths and walk the ocean floor.
My Ocean! My Queen! My Life!
Each wave a separate line, though tides may stall,
unfulfilled, enveloping shores and reflecting earthen skies
blessed with their own intrepid sense of will
I believe these letters drift, certain to arrive,
immeasurable as these waters be
I wait, I wait for your reply.