Rupture

Not everything is permitted to man (Milosz).

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. 

From nothing,

a seabird screams for the water,

fissure through marble fog. 

Revision note: I reworked this one & still hate it. If interested, give me your thoughts on how I could fix that.