Between a sun and crescent moon, he stood on deck and filled his lungs. Wind circled in the palm of his hands. Pithy, these thoughts of meditation, cacophonies of bondage caught inside an untranslated meaning of a smile. A man’s world was always noisy. He preferred the roar of cities, the motion of land, and people. He gazed at the shadow standing by the Bridge of Baiae and asked why lakes carry a belly full of sky. Then let his hands fall, like the colour of jade, into uncaring waters.
Two words for rain unveiled a season in rural life.
Juno revealed she was married, where was her ring?
On a blashy day, she showed her face, hid froth
Collected from runny streams in summer showers.
Month by month another piece was exposed.
Some parts left obscured by the sun,
Others turned back into their own shadow.
I would love to be the girl she has become.
The staggering genius of ordinary lives
Not a thorn between them
You run to catch up with the sun
But she is sinking as she swings
To and fro, on a piece of frayed rope
Until she is lost, in a relative way
You are older, older than wishing time away
Along with all her endearments, frittering
And wasting hours in an offhand style
Collapsed on a wooden bench
We took a second to search for nostalgia
Taking more than a fallen age to come
A name is a name, why tinker with it
Music Credit: Monolog Rockstars – The Bad Wake