It comes this time as a burning word, in
No script I know, landing foursquare, feverbright
Somewhere behind my eyes. Unseen, a lambent
Absence; around it my thoughts swirl, the work
Of the day in abeyance, while I observe,
Hesitant, a lone walker on a known shore,
Struck staring at the opaque waves, drawn
By a call from deep between the crash and
Hiss back of surf, below the surface
Glitter and foam, nerving myself for
The shock and lash of the glorious unknown.

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