Do you see the sea, breaking itself to bits against the
islands
yet
remaining unbroken, the level great sea?
Have I caught from it
the tide in my arms
that runs down to the shallows of my wrists, and
breaks
abroad in my
hands, like waves among the rocks of
substance?
Do the rollers of the sea
roll down my thighs
and over the submerged islets of my
knees
with power,
sea-power sea-power
to break against the ground
in the flat, recurrent breakers of my two
feet?
And is my body ocean, ocean
whose power runs to the shores along my
arms
and breaks in
the foamy hands, whose power rolls out
to the white-treading waves of two salt
feet?
I am the sea, I am the sea!