Stanley

Was I worth that night at Faro, a lighthouse stripes the beach, smells of sardines from boats, at the raging café’, I smell rain and sea, warm against the beams, when she eats alone , I bring her tea, her eyes fill with stone, she wants to dance and dream, but her opacity, splits me like lightning, cuts me to the bone, above my pressed dungarees, birds from Africa fly home, will she ever see, there’s always a happier reach, if you can just let it be, we’ll all be happy?