You have never seen the heat with which
the prow creams through the syruped ocean,
spume dashing itself against the gunwales
and a caucus of gulls looping round the mast.
I get younger everyday. Salt abrades the sharp lines
of my eyes and armpits, the keen edge of my nose,
rubs away my lips; my breasts sink back into my chest.
Who hasn't dreamt of such transformations?
Soon, my face will be smooth as a pearl.
I shall be no one at all, sailing blindly,
knowing nothing but the winds.
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