Visitor                                                                                                    

        White shimmer,

on a slab of stone you shimmer.

Caught in the false medium

         a leaping trout.

 

        I touch your flesh,

water forms beneath my fingers.

          Flesh to dew.

 

Your pulse is the wet undertow

    overlaid with whispers.

    It promises me the sea;

   But leaves me drowning

          on the shore.