Gods blow warm over earth’s south ridge, pulled by the daymoon; transparent, aerial. Coquinas bite a spanish click into white sands, kissed warm, as name ribs to talk invisible, cut by foam. Porpoise herd outerbanks their black backs carry deep to sea; beneath green crests absorbed in expanse of tide, bodies grow to stone. Narwhals play in white tipped thoughts; sea unicorns sperm to color, winged by sun, shimmer clear the amorphous eye of day. Sinbad dressed in skirts of sea, shark’s dagger tied by gull’s wing, follows the horn with dream sharp spear, deep to the virgin’s home. In our body’s burn, we breathe the moist sea ghost, conjurer of dreams, and hold starfish by the pointed end of life. As mermaids swim sound to sky, orion steps from the sands of night to hunt the growth of sun thrown stars. By sounds of the horn we will love; by bells that ring in night, we will walk the sown seam of growth beyond the crested moon.