I wish someone would sprinkle sea,
Upon my head;
I want to bathe with the fish and sun,
That are sinking down upon me.

brilliant unknown;
Magic that disappears each time we trip,
The sky cracked,
As if seen through a through a specimen plate.

We reach the top of an abandoned building,
And surrounded by the whispers,
Of dandelion fluff,
We’re a song.

The ash-colored ground,
Is decorated with light,
And wrapped in the roaring sound,
We’re a bouquet.

With these plucked wings…

Words,
Are blown backward, no breath to contend,
Elegantly fading away.

In the midst of sea birds being led to fulfillment,
Is a lying star;
Its flashes leading us on, then casting us away,
As we paddle our boat.

On a midnight sea,
It’s the reverberations of the sea breeze,
And this blazing world,
We bury our cheeks in.

Dead center,
In a whirlpool of creaking voices,
We join hands and navigate through needle-like rain.

As this grand view darkens,
We play with the haze of heat,
That’s falling head first to the ground,
As we dance along with time.

We reach the top of an abandoned building,
And surrounded by the whispers,
Of dandelion fluff,
We’re a song.

The ash-colored ground,
Is decorated with light,
And wrapped in the roaring sound,
We’re a bouquet.

I wish someone would sprinkle sea,
Upon our ceiling…