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 ******, 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.