I slept on a boat and was in love with the sea
I was light, I was air, I was weightless.

But the sea has dried and my boat is a bed.
It is not my bed,
but I have made it, so I will lie in it.
It is a bed of broken glass, meticulously made.
It is not my bed,
but I have made it, so I will lie in it.

And I feel heavy
and I long for the days
when my bed was a boat
and I was in love with the sea.