Two huge clouds droop from the sky

Two huge clouds droop from the sky

onto the ocean surface

like a pair of breasts sick with gigantism.

and in that cleavage, a small fishing boat—

The pines on the opposite side of the water

with a little steering it sprouts wings

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

and flies out

I follow the morning routine of the beach,

to chase seagulls,

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

drawing a new coastline.

then sit down peacefully

The road is spiraling uphill,

to write my daily sentence to the sea.

lifting the ocean.

But the sea keeps interrupting me.

When we’re near the top, my thin retina

There's a humpback whale

can’t embrace the ocean that looks heavy and dull

jumping out of the sky between two large clouds:

as my aged ancestors. I close my eyes.

flipping, twisting and diving.

Inside the car, the air conditioning blows out

It's gone and comes back,

piano fingers of cold air that play my arms

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

in recurrent invisible waves.

the sea has swallowed my sentence whole.

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.