Florist
Still
In the evening is when ocean tempts me the most
Cold black water calling, but for what?
Is it for security, for shock, for eternity?
Dark into dark, I want it to pull me deeply
I think sound would disappear, light would too
That would be nice after a very earthly series of thoughts
And to think tide speaks to the shore
Similarly to the way I speak to death
Or to you who isn't listening
Rather just standing still