Poetry

How long will it go 
this hurricane? 
Let me go, open the sails 
and put the boat on high sea. 
 
Water is deep and blue, wind is strong 
and I want to do it again 
Tonight I will break the vow of moon 
and bring it down. 
 
Who knows where I land 
the school of sharks 
or turbulent isle 
the body will be lowered to feed the hungry waves. 
 
I was used to upheavals 
up and down, up and down 
and slept on pillow of clouds 
who will wash the mirror today. 
 
I am not going to die 
not now but for ever 
I will cleave, my body, my soul, my thoughts 
into thousand pieces, each will grow into I. 
 
Floral and thorned, rosy and scented 
opening like a tribute 
to fetishes of yore 
The spirit must live.