when i was lost at sea, there was a
song i used to sing every night to make me dream
sweet things. it spoke of a boy who needs
faith going into a church, and believing
in everything there but himself. to
sleep, i would taste
the words inside my mouth like
the food i so desperately longed for. the
days were long, but the nights were real.
the sky and ocean becoming one solid thing,
blending into each other like
paint or a pair of lovers. some
would say i went mad there. became a stranger,
strange inside this body, but when you
heard me sing the song, i watched you recognise it.
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