At first, it's just a mist
Floating on the surface of the sea, at dusk.
She lends more water to the air
Creeping up the beach on feet that do not touch the sands
A little while, an hour, three --
The ocean left leeward
Yet dew is in my eyes, lashes beading with it,
And the vapors build to a smoke that brings the night
I cannot feel my breath
I cannot touch my thoughts
I cannot find my soul
Fretting in this fret too thick to think in
And the circles I describe don't help to find me
And I am no longer numb to cold But this cold numbs me If I sleep, will morning dawn Unclouded?