Mossed giant rocks tied together by taught, tussled creaking rope
Separated by deep dangerous meters.
Pressing the sea floor, no intent for journey’s West
The white rips and roars,
Underneath, aurora raw.
Aluminium panic sips, dips and spits
Tectonic plates inch the floor.
Fuel wind flutes and pecks the waves,
Like skimming stones that hit your face
Breathed in cliffs shout down ‘you fucking clown!’
‘The taxman rang’, the anchors clang
Shames tempest with metallic fangs
Have you been here?
My soul I paint…and what, is soul