Two huge clouds droop from the sky

Two huge clouds droop from the sky

like a pair of breasts sick with gigantism.

onto the ocean surface

The pines on the opposite side of the water

and in that cleavage, a small fishing boat—

look blue and aloof, like the thoughts of a mermaid.

with a little steering it sprouts wings

I follow the morning routine of the beach,

and flies out

look for a chair with the best angle for the sunrise,

to chase seagulls,

then sit down peacefully

drawing a new coastline.

to write my daily sentence to the sea.

The road is spiraling uphill,

But the sea keeps interrupting me.

lifting the ocean.

There's a humpback whale

When we’re near the top, my thin retina

jumping out of the sky between two large clouds:

can’t embrace the ocean that looks heavy and dull

flipping, twisting and diving.

as my aged ancestors. I close my eyes.

It's gone and comes back,

Inside the car, the air conditioning blows out

and by the time I realize it's still going,

piano fingers of cold air that play my arms

the sea has swallowed my sentence whole.

in recurrent invisible waves.

Under my skin streams out a large pod of humpback whales

raising their heads, spewing out

farewell to me,

as solemn as the standard scripts of the island.