So this is how it goes,
you fly into the ocean,
I stand on the shoulder of the wind
while someone pulls down the sky onto the earth.
Sometimes you keep your wings on the shore
and follow the dolphins.
A few seagulls try out your wings
when they scour the coast at the break of dawn.
Most feed on crustaceans who had swum with you.
From my vantage point I see
people tying themselves to anchors,
people dusting off the desert sand in their hair,
talking with roses,
trading their armour for mandolins.
While you touch the ocean bed,
swim between the reefs,
and dive into the trenches,
the gypsies set sail at the docks.
They break their shadows
and dissolve them in the sea
one fragment at a time.
My wind-chariot hits a cloud
and we burst into rain
pouring into the ocean.
And in the waters of the ocean we mingle,
the melting shadows,
the wandering you,
and the pouring me.
Only time will tell
if the ocean will weave us
or if we will stay suspended in chaos
like a colloid.