Sixteen, filled with sea mist.
Perched on the ragged rocks,
like primordial fortress walls,
I wait for the sun to reach it's zenith
and turn the page.
I can still return, return,
and return again like the tide.
I float. That's how I survive.
I float above the wreckage,
like a swimmer curling between waves.
The splintered ship on the ocean floor beneath me.
Blue sky above.
Keep your eyes on the sky
