laconic, lonely faced sounds

you, quickly, haphazardly sharing your lack of balance, your crashing will silently shrill in the swelling day-old desire to mate. I eat mountains. I cannot see the top of the valley or the place where you begin. wandering sighs cannot amount to much so why am I so full? where did this sudden voice come from, this deep throated, rich laugh cutting across my grey skied, blue veined morning? these ships are sated, are casually staffed and silently run aground, engorged in the taking, yet mastless in a heavy wind - what could they take from me? I balance rocks on tideless dunes as filmy sea turtles slip into their swelling, crashing, ancient potential. you slowly, cautiously concentrating your senses, foaming your feet in the gloaming moments before you fall.