to speak of love

and to speak and to speak about love though the face is unseen through monitor's cold gleam and glow
o my love, you must melt and must drift and must burn to the end, where beginnings repeat themselves ebb and flow
it is wind in your face it is sand in your eyes on your tears on the skin as it sears
it is coiling up tight like a string trembling hard to respond to the calling of fears
it is sun rays that shatter and split distant thunder's call rocks on the sharp jagged brink
in the emerald boil of the surf, but oh no, do not look you won’t sink you won’t sink