Finding the String and Lift. 

The bright bodies. We will understand… 

That one day: 

I make… oh my! and my sun-lit girl.  

As beautiful before the worst hurricane,  

Ourselves without burn and fire… 

( I don't said why I deliver the message)

kicking up the water and wrap the bright bodies…  

The ocean day walkers on the beach this morning,

The waves to move out the way, my strained heart… 

The leave promptly at the morning sun, who chose: 

Hurry –Who belong to write… 

Hurry –Who chose to father me… 

Even jumps over I was born when the sea belong to – 

Is the ocean cold where is the plane ?

I ask her. 

Why the purple-blue day in town passing ship-like sparkly horizon,  

Drag the sand and crush shells, beautiful standing when I was six. 

Her cherrywood skin remind me the language of joy 

She was the star of her own Hollywood musical…

My great, great, great, grandfather… 

Being paid the Corona the night after a demon had possessed them. 

But you arrived here, at this night, in one piece, 

Where every spoken word is standing by the ocean. 

What a Poem cannot do… 

Find the String and Lift.