Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets 
towards your oceanic eyes. 

There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames, 
its arms turning like a drowning man's. 

I sent out red signals across your absent eyes 
that move like the sea near a lighthouse. 

You keep only darkness, my distant female, 
from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges. 

Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets 
to the sea that beats on your marine eyes. 

The birds peck at the first stars 
that flash like my soul when I love you. 

The night on its shadowy mare 
shedding blue tassels over the land.