The winter sharp brains of children 
Took a turn for the worse,
Suffered an inferiority complex.
Dispersed, triumphant solely in their dreams.
They came running across raging seas, dancing on the waves.

A storm-blessed salty awakening.
Had nothing to regret. 
They were sweeter than children.
The word ‘atrocity’ was expunged from the dictionary.
Elm trees were caw-caw-cawing with the rooks.
Nobody lied, not even the poets,
Blue wine stains penetrated everyone's sleep.

In the sea, infused with stars.
Slow rhythms predominate.
The glare of the day persisted into night
The femininity of love was universally acknowledged.
Skies were bursting with surprise
Lightning, and wind conspired for hours.
Beneath the waves, the exalted dawn deja vued.
I sometimes saw the same woman she saw.
The low sun was strained with all that gothik horror lacks.
Fact. The waves rolled off the shivering dream,
We rise to the eyes of the seas, slowly.