As on an island, my desires stand
all alone, surrounded by salt
an ocean, a stubborn stain on a blue ball
stranded by angels who forgot about a child
who grew up
quiet
a mouse on a different plane.

Are you the salt?
and should I be rent with need for drink, how then?
perhaps sweet can soon come and clear the slate
so many images collide and they interfere with my day
no less, my mind.

Songs are sung by hearts alone
and many sentences lie low
in the sand
below
as the gentle wind lifts
and the spray reveals all.