Burial by the Sea

                                    blunting

my own blade I have dulled,

skulled, and sullied the sun’s

shade. in the perfume of oils

human and otherwise

dumbed in the half-lidded

                             gaze. who is it

lurking beneath the pool who

                                                     is it a parasol

                                                     to war who

                                                     is it

                               flowers

for the cold division between hands:

Dutchman to Dutchman touch

men to the sand.

watch them exhale,

                                inhale. tulipped,

                                tulipped.