Hey little girl keep dancing
Hey little girl keep dancing alone
‘Cause there’s not enough time in your day
To keep you here
It moves on with the cadence of the ocean, and exudes the same scent, the same salt-laden murmur. There are worlds upon worlds held in the shape of the water’s foray onto the sands, and even more in the quickly flickering tendril of the fire. Turn down your eyes and dream. Watch the sun in your mind’s eye, pulling its length over the western seas, the weight of it becoming watery through the lingering clouds. Feel through the moment, just once; speak his name, if you know. The faceless architect of the places in your dreams where you fear and hope to go as you pull the blanket upon you. Something in the safety, something in the closed arms curling around you, something in the agonizing morning light. The night breaks; dreams flee; sentences change with the landscape. We surrender ourselves for half the day on tenuous altars and speak with borrowed words. The countenances have an affectation ripped from the screens and magazines. But that enclave remains. Who will know? You hold the answer in the quiet moments.