At bay, midnight, the day lost the sun to the night.
He mourned, bare chested, with the cold wind clawing at his shoulders,
his heart expanding underneath, eyes level to the fading horizon.
People soared thru the limestone cliffs, splashing feet in the face of the waters.
His head followed the images flashing in the pale fire of moonlight.
Then they receded to a house with a brick bedded ceiling, with thin walls.
Sounds came unstuck in the air, mingling with sweat and grains of burnt rollups.
And from behind those walls, morning hit his feelings,
He bowed in open wind.
His mouth whispered stronger than any word before “And love, be brave”
When the daylight began to flicker, he immersed his body in the sea,
fishing for some days he had before in each bubbling breath.
Then the uprising water delivered him to shore, with a smile hanging from his lips,
and his shivering body clutched in his fingers, heading home, or finding one.