The relentless sea attempting to come closer,
The sands tediously taking it all deeper,
The gusty Arabian winds downed by the ghats,
Resulting in an endless rain and light spat.
I ride with sea to my left, hills to my right,
Constant hide and seek plays the sun,
I see him by day fall, outlining the waters.

Its a spectacle to watch Oliver Ridleys ashore,
A struggle to live, hope we see them more,
So much to see, sure you'll be in wonder,
What's to sit at home, go out and wander,
The rhythmic sound of the century old beast,
Chase yourself away, this you can do at least,
Remember to get lost before you can be found.

You're daring enough to have ventured into the night,
he sounded delirious in the wispy light.

Half a mile across the lagoon
moondrunk Ridleys in ghostly shadows
would be digging holes in the sands
to lay their lives for posterity
away from the phosphoric melody
leaving the orphaned to find their way
once the shells cracked under silica.

They look like a procession of mourners,
the man whispered between strokes of oars
sloshing the rising tides of the channel
his deft hands rowing the fastest
cutting across the half mile to Cuthbert Bay.

The night ripened enough by that time
unfolded the crawling shadows from the sea
slowing time in frameshot motions
of rows of celebrating marchers.

Dead of night the stars were burning out
and I called out to the boatman.

To this day I don't believe what I heard.

None was ever ferried back by the boatman.

I don't want you to talk to me, but you're the one I want to tell about everything that happened on my day.
I don't want you to see me, but I want to run into you on the streets, coincidentally.
I don't want you to make me smile, but I want to laugh with you for the rest of my life.
I don't want you to tell me I'm pretty, but I want you to look at only me, forever.
I don't want you to tell me that you're cooking, but I want to cook for you, forever.
I don't want you to tell me what you're doing, but I want to do things with you, forever.

These are just a few...

I don't know why, but...

It's you that I think of when I imagine getting married.
It's you that I think of when I listen to The Ridleys' love songs.
It's you that I think of when I want to try and see new things.
It's you that I think of when I want to go to places I've never been.
It's you that I think of when I want to try new foods.
It's you that I think of when I see couples enjoying their time together.
It's you that I think of when I see the sun as it sets, wishing that I'm watching it with you.
It's you that I think of when I look at the moon, wishing that I could watch it with you one day, while sitting on our car.

It's you...
It's still you.