at starcross station,
sometimes hidden rivers
looking like silver ribbons
surrender themselves to the ocean.
it’s an ancient conversation, saltwater, and stone.
there’s a sonorous space in me.
in fact, it spills over everything,
and i’d like to seperate it. write songs for the sea!
strange, back and forth melodies. haunting, or holy?
i think the waves might be
we are surrounded by stillness. deep breath, then, dive.
there’s dust dancing in the sunlight,
that’s pouring through the window.