House on the Bluff

This is my castle: black night
raising its head, fur shining purple;

one glowing eye, saffron and orange.

Hear the sea, primitive drums,
its tambourine of rock and corral,

matted hairs of seaweed swept
across the platinum sands.

These ocean shelves, jagged stairs
the color of fire and blood climb up

to ceiling, that is not a ceiling
but open like a glass-paned door

where gray-winged gulls, voices sharp
as trumpets whorl, then dive down.

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