Sharp forest of oceanic pines,
a toxin that inflames giant seabirds
and drives them to the annihilating shores.
In the opening of the sea flower,
the awakening of the wounded whale
that cries beneath the sand,
and a pleasure that assaults a coast of disintegration,
a song of salt-invaded girls.
In the shell’s soft folds at your core,
the voice of the sea is unassailable.
What enters us overflows,
while the stones that vibrate in the surf
propel us toward the deeper ecstasy of loss.
We, the ones already marked for death,
find here the vessels of other lives.