Xena

Was it worth that night alone, a lighthouse shading beach, sardines boats on their own, at the quayside mornihg café’, I smell rain and sea, warm against the beams, will you view the foam , I call for more tea, my eyes fill with stone, I'd like to dance and dream, but my opacity, spins me like spinning, i press myself to the bone, above my pressed dungarees, if I saw you coming home, what we should really see, always within gentle reach, inside a starlit breesze is to remain happy?