blood scars these rocks,
sea foam moves and interlocks
the sand and stone where the notes of gulls slug
the sky and squawk along the quays and walks that
dub this land ‘Ethiopia.’
perseus sizes her up, but she doesn’t look.
past his eyes, she just names the mane of the horizon,
red ember, herb, madder.
out her red lips and to the sun, she simply sighs its sap.