We get to work
mud, bricks
and broken glass
it’s a mess

dust and smoke
float in the crevice
of a question
the answer is yes

A full moon in August
barefoot, we touch the sea
it rocks an old story

the rusty furnace
grinding heat
sweat, salt, butter
oil, and beer

In an ocean of cool
white sheets
a whale comes up
for air

A splash and fall
the giant island sinks
we swim inside
this dream
for now