Somewhere

under a tree in the middle of the woods beyond the meadow over the thick lush field of flowers waving at the sun hiding behind the clouds hovering above the middle of the deep blue sea far away from the white sand-lined shore of the majestic beaches flaunting tall palm trees with dozens and dozens of palm friuts hanging from their bossoms like a mother's tits protruding from her chest while her nipples get tickled from time to time by the baby teeth of her tiny sibling breastfeeding quietly within her arms as she waits for the father to arrive from work in the urban jungle of the city by the bay smashing against the breakwaters of the baywalk where lovebirds love to sit as they gaze at the beautiful sunset of the afternoon sun that is trying to hide into the horizon which will become its blanket for the cold nights of this world, there is a nail.