-into the eyes of Elaine San Marcos-

navigating the drenched corneas 

the pupils of her eyes are black.

there’s a silvered corona circling

these black pools which are deep,

translucent, which are salted,—

whose salt is outwardly transported.

I imagine sailing alone

black pool to black pool,—

uncharted, weatherly, the one star-

gazer left on the water.