Music in the mind is water Spelling white mansions in manacle light By sloppy oceans, by Atlantic blue. The boats became a syncopation of the art, Swift cutters paddling up to start--- Jutting in some over-occasional spray.... Splay, the tragic motorblades that mix Bones of rubies, your lost and salted eyes, resolute Of oceans, seamed into one white salt. Who can take the tiger-chime of arced spray Away, deep among the dimensionless swoon of day, As diamond-dusted angle-trees cure a blue? Loops of light on clear glass circulate endlessly As the shadow of some unbent beauty Blends an anchorage with graphite spillage of its heart In one still spot. Tranquil water takes The unaltered burn of day and rainbows it abroad: Exact bright bands of unconquerable split light.