by Kevin Wallace
-
- Reflections of distant dying stars,
sank into the sleepless sea,
washed by dreams of searching ships,
while she sang to me.
She washed her words with turquoise waves,
bound me to the shore with the tidal crush -
and drowned my fear with her cold kiss,
upon the rocks, in her liquid touch.
Breathless she left me on the beach,
as her coraled voice called to me.
a submerged life just within reach -
in unfathomed depths of the sea.
Now I hear her sing night and day -
"Come drift,
come drift,
come drift away."
