Letter from a ship's crew

I find myself lost in the tide,

where lean on the sun my shoulder,

alone, empty, disoriented and wounded,

drowned in a very deep vase.

I don't know if I'm in rough waters

or in the dance of my glass,

I only know that all these are facades,

of what is, to my heart, hurting.

When someone has suffered so much,

It's normal to feel exhausted

of how hurt and anchored he has been.

And here I am on my ship sailing,

for the bitterest storms of my drink,

clouding my fragmented heart.

Reviews

[Bellah Bultron]

Great writing! Just wondering if you could provide clarification on this line:
where lean on the sun my shoulder