whops luksy at the time…. and mermen wait for mermaids to sing siren songs…
Originality exists in every individual because each of us differs from the others.
In the fragile state between dreaming
and the nightmares, waking up to sirens
screaming out the blackness, we wander
down toward the rotting piers and empty docks
with a hope for nothing, silence, waning to lights
seen only from a distance, a futile dream,
an empty state of hope. Can I have this dance,
sailor with rough hands and slurred words.
Can you lend me your ship with no maps,
Captain of endless freedom and violent love;
loan me your dreams of stardust, keep your nightmares
of empty nights and warm waves washing
feet toward the sinking mountains — kiss me.
I was born with seaweed on my lips and sand
melting into glass sculptures beneath my eyes.
I was not made for the earth, I am the gentle swells,
the cracking sails, the last warrior in an age of mud.