peace to my enemy

city sure
certainly you're free to curl into
the warm cleft, the frank corner of rock
a bosom hard to touch, tectonic slow to move
but always same in morning as it was
ten thousand nights before
still know you are where you've always been
no delirium whole enough to wake one from the dream
for certain she will always offer up
her thudding cunt, her warm familiar salt
and boil tea in the morning, a fine mooring
a rigid rock to nest on
the waves of terror cresting on her back
she'll never slide into the sea like me
it's better there, the wet is wetter
never fret I'm only feathers
just the passing shadow, not the bird 
wings come ashore upon the sun
I'm not the one