Drowning in your drawn volcanic face

Curl in
The sea shape
Of uncertain sleep
An agony of particular kinds of desperation
Stitches the ribs and thighs
Pulls tight the zigzag thread
Almost running, almost still
A fly in the honey


Drowning, bliss


Under an obdurate sun
You can, almost
See the stone-shear face
In the concatenation
Of precariously hinged boulders
The sun breaks 
Stern weathered grace 
Into a brief, consuming smile