He lay washed up on red rocks
and dreamed her voice was calling him, sand
scattered over him and blowing away.
The sea lay itself down on his breast.
His heart was the breeding-ground of
colourful birds. The wind came back.
One by one the birds rose up,
they shrieked and fell upwards, helpless,
they were swept aside.
When she found him his heart was a wound,
a deserted chamber, the difference between him
and the ground was love, no more.
She lifted him up. Gently she tried
to close his lips. In the ship
she tried to close his mouth.
She grew silent and pressed his lips together.
She grew silent and laid his arms round her neck.
It worked. His head lies on her shoulder.
He is silent. They set sail. They are everything
to each other.