IF you cannot sleep you have to swim
across that Ocean of dreams
smoke and trip upon wet seaweed
taking your loved one to town
the seashell sings
but our human throats are too dry
but we can cry
we cannot sleep but a strange
feeling up from the depths of
the seas see — we can surely die
f
ooli
sh sh
apes
remind me of the throw down inside
the bone cave of all minds.
a beautiful ship should come soon;
sadsadsadsadsad so finally i lost
it so completely bleeding upon the
white sheets of my sails.
:: 10.07.2020 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 