A Rave from a Man on a Boat I
The sea is shining at eleven’o’clock.
Here trapped in a vessel half-sunk
I speak to the wind.
Zephyr approaches from all corners
its sweet and smells of clover.
She haunts me from all locations.
Still pierced in the back of my mind
her eyes mirror the sky, she whispers
wake up, and see Olympus.