Ellen Three

My vision comes quite late, it's not easy to believe, what I have to say, you rolled within my thunder, exploded like a spree, lost in moans and numbers, you'll find out one day, if you let me keep, plans you’ve thrown away, my mind is uncluttered, inside screech, who needs love, I won’t stand in the way, of your retreat, or make any last refrain, it makes you wonder, stones, graves, wreaths, who splits who asunder, the memory of your face, is easy to receive, the poetry of our days, always by the sea.