Here is a sailboat, safe.
Here the sun is what we see, and the shadows run ink-black through the ocean, beneath the smooth lips of the waves. My sails are bright wings, and my boat is an inkwell, and I watch the seagulls as they slip between shades, and the bright white tosses their slim bodies in and out of loose black threads.
God loves the ocean. On little Wings He has drifted to the salty depths and dipped His Nose into the pools. Ocean bit His black Eyes until a stubbled Mouth smiled and shadows pooled in happy half-circles at his Muzzle.
Captured by the boat at sea, I reach for Him with long, solid arms and wish to clasp the kind Face between my material hands.
A paper-bright sun runs sleek through the ocean and touches the brights of my face, until I am brave and simple. The white star is wreathed in Halo.
based on a noir from redon's early symbolism phases. you can find it here, among other places. it's an obscure artwork, and very weird, but it's quite possibly my favorite visual piece to date.