“Let’s go sailing,” you say,
“The winds are favorable,
And the pounding surf
Yearns for us.”
So we sail away on our blind voyage
Deftly navigating a precise nowhere.
O sky, be kind; our compass, rusted,
Spins dubiously
Yet we sail,
Our wild dreams
Nailed firmly
To the deck
The sound of crashing waves
Covering their own retreat.
exiles child 