In sleep I sit naked
in the belly of the earth,
my skin coated with salt.
Miles above my head,
morning sweats the cliff-face,
heavy slate bled to feed the sea.
For a moment, you meet my eyes
in the mirror,
steam billowing in the saccharine heat.
From nothing a seabird screams
for the water, fissure
through marble fog.
Without language, I hear plainly:
not everything is permitted to man.