“SilverThe liquid ebony stretches outand mingles with the midnight skywhere high above,as on a throne,is perched that perfect sphere of silver.She looks upon the lapping waves,the calm, all serene;She looks upon the rocky shore,watching dark nothing break in two and becometiny globs of light.The soft white foam creepsupon the smooth beige landto darken it but for a moment,only to retreat back to itsblackened home and hide among the vastness.The silver moon smiles openly,casting a healthy grinupon the rippled water below,sending gifts of silverto float on seas of woe.”

“a tangle of sea smell and of weeds and damp, new-plowed earth, mingled with the heavy perfumes of white blossoms somewhere near, but the night sat lightly upon the sea and the land. there was no weight of darkness, there were no shadows. the white light of the moon had fallen upon the world like the mystery and the softness of sleep.”

“I see nothing. We may sink and settle on the waves. The sea will drum in my ears. The white petals will be darkened with sea water. They will float for a moment and then sink. Rolling over the waves will shoulder me under. Everything falls in a tremendous shower, dissolving me.”

“Cold as winter, strong as stone; She faced the darkness all alone. A silver goddess; a reflection. A mirage; a recollection. No return; no turning back. The past is gone, the future, black. Serpents gather in their nest, And she stands above the rest. Shadows hunt; she hunts the shadow. The moon is risen; she stands below. She views her world through the eyes of others. Black and white; there are no colors, As she looks down upon a shattered youth. A shattered mirror shows a shattered truth.”

“I am forever walking upon these shores,Betwixt the sand and the foam,The high tide will erase my foot prints,And the wind will blow away the foam,But the sea and the shore will remain forever.”

“Riding upon the back of a waterhorse - what mortal had ever stayed in such a seat for so long? On a horse made of cold currents and liquid convergences, jests and trickery - pressed against a hide like the burnished sea of midnight, thing look different to the rider.”