The ring of Cancer once comes around and the evening sky
is still. If you want to look back, spring while the sun was
frowning, darkened distance from winter will make you remem-
ber, head and waters, deep dive, and on your skin, everywhere
you are looking, you see the ocean and endless summer
horizons. I was then much younger, middle earth between my
fingers, father time smiling; in your reflection I saw the sun tall-
est shadow and a diamond skull. In your laughter that was
nearest, the speechless storm approaching, while the beetle
had won the race on the beach, and I ran for something out of
sight. We all long for this day, feeling a gem of ocean deep,
in the colour of blue one planet sized. And you don't say a
word, hold your silence, forever more... Heading deep in
waters and I see the nearest end is everywhere, on my skin...
My soul was the pigeon that flew to Capricorn's ring,
hearing nothing but soundless terror across the sea. Here is
the winter's window and it's blackness slowing down your
deep breath, in an instant memory is nothing, no life, no
beetle, and beaches. If you drown in your summer's dream
your eyes will be the oyster and your sky will be indescent
in
the
wind
and
waters.
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 5:33 PM UTC
The ring of Cancer once comes around and the evening sky
is still. If you want to look back, spring while the sun was
frowning, darkened distance from winter will make you remem-
ber, head and waters, deep dive, and on your skin, everywhere
you are looking, you see the ocean and endless summer
horizons. I was then much younger, middle earth between my
fingers, father time smiling; in your reflection I saw the sun tall-
est shadow and a diamond skull. In your laughter that was
nearest, the speechless storm approaching, while the beetle
had won the race on the beach, and I ran for something out of
sight. We all long for this day, feeling a gem of ocean deep,
in the colour of blue one planet sized. And you don't say a
word, hold your silence, forever more... Heading deep in
waters and I see the nearest end is everywhere, on my skin...
My soul was the pigeon that flew to Capricorn's ring,
hearing nothing but soundless terror across the sea. Here is
the winter's window and it's blackness slowing down your
deep breath, in an instant memory is nothing, no life, no
beetle, and beaches. If you drown in your summer's dream
your eyes will be the oyster and your sky will be indescent
in
the
wind
and
waters.
Back from gone.
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