Searching myself as an innocent
Demand, sucking forth
Beyond the hum of desperation
Awaiting the steps
To block out the sun
It is your cry
By the shore
Scented-
Of the past
Of redundance
The sea is like two sounds
Smashed together
Prescient
Like the strangeness of beauty
In a world muted by distance
Discounted dreams as masochism
There are some who wake assassins
And others discounted by a nascent liberty
Staring at clouds from both sides.