The simple math of a mediterranean breeze.
Breaking waves settle into currents, and currents settle into seas.
And in nights like these, spent building roofs sinking of root.
A delicate poem of blue lune washes clean the veinbraiders in truth.
Dragon flies dance between airplanes to write your name in the air and sand.
Beating the ebb and flow of moons tides command.
Looking to the horizon, and then to the sea,
there that remains was your name looking back a me.