Transmutations of the Solid State II

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.