I pray it will be easy. I pray it will
be swift. I pray, before the window
shade drops, for the most lucid light
there is; for there to be a strong,
hot wind from the sea. I pray the mouth
released from its feverish workings,
the eye clear-washed of all its salt
and stings. I pray the hands applied
to touch, then recognition of a face.
I pray at the last utterance of love,
the void fills up with gold as if
for burning, before the flood.
In response to Via Negativa: Sea wind.