You’ll find me far beneath the ruins
Of Arthur’s double court, in a cave
Which by day wombs dark a
Blue-foamed, crashing shore, by night
Is drowned in ocean, a door to
Lower courts of driftglass and
Salt queens. Step down from high
Ambition to learn what crowns and
Treasures tide: This undertowing dream,
Dark’s plunder of the regent sun,
The sea’s upwelling past high ground.
Here I say farewell to men to
Bed my fair blue Niniane.
Under every man’s throne there is a south,
A water wild as Merlin’s mouth.
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