My body has begun its chorus
of holy fertile futures,
it was time to stop praying for the apocalypse,
we had begun to grow old.
This return to my oceanic blood
provokes ol' Sancho's proverbs.
I become a dreamer of goats all around
as I find our common nature
in the salty blood of the earth.
After so many years of gathering salt,
from youthful pupils
wild on becoming Oedipus,
I finally swallowed my heart,
-it had been leaping into other ribs
then panicking at the site of another cage,
and damaging the very thing that had become its home.
I decided I couldn't bear another murder,
How did this need for love become butchery?
So, I recalled the ocean
the way the abyss gave life to my salty motion,
I've emptied my sorrow into the sea and became free.
Now, my heart swims in mortal infinity.
The apocalypse has come and gone.
My land has begun to sing with renewal.