From the valley of mislaid and flecked awaiting, 

I wept in a hush, hoping no one would hear-

imagined hands that would swathe and

soar me to infinity

To embark on jarring ships of childhood fantasies

and strip away the coverings that wrap me like

a swan on a lake

A wish to have no thoughts of the-

sway crossways from sea to sea,

foaming salt into bubbles

When will this be?