Impasse

My body is the sea. 

A single star shines through my window, 
a counterpoint to the writhing in my belly.  

With the sternness of a sculpted horse, 
I address the sky: 

Where we meet, 
our restless fidgeting stops
and all is solid. 

Battle is a proud thing. 
It opens you. 

We flower in vemehnent impasse.