If lucky—inversion—one wave back,
retracted. Infinite claw set against tide.
This weave-water—lucent sheet over, under—
flat physic and cure.
The signal transmission of that planet
shouts down heaven and spectacle.
Slingshot sun and off—elsewhere—
code creased like tracery paper.
by the jetties’ walk, whole oceans volute—
two worlds, this singular station—
elsewhere impossible, elsewhere war.