Exactly which one of the twenty-something stories humanity picked up on are we telling today
The planes intersect in the sky making exes marking loners on the beach tanning quietly from space
They lie in dents of people's footsteps as graceless dogs whip up the sand
Traceless prophets loners virtuous they hold all answers in their hands
Hermit lanterns cantered boats they beckon us they beckon please
In the spaces between parasols of the ones parading peace