There were the windows without curtains

***
There were the windows
without curtains,
arm-open,
There was an ocean
without water,
stepping in slowly,
vowel-by-vowel,
inside the me and the cotton-walled
living,
where the pink beach
were shoulders and arms,
where the waves were the veins and lines,
where the lifeguards were flowers
standing along the baseboards,
where a jellyfish was an orchid
paused in a grand-plié,
where no dunes were spotted,
neither the wind,
Only the smiling shoreline
of lips.
Snow-blinded,
I could go no father than the edge of the sun –
one’s heart.