Pulling the Lightbulb Chain Shakes the Whole Fixture

Look at all the whitecaps,
no, it’s far too choppy
to take out the boat

What is it that lies in us
and stretches it’s fingers
towards an endless horizon

The fire’s going well now,
we have a nice bed of coals

What future is bound
to the promises we give ourselves

Watch the sun sail
like a clear eye

Holding a dance
between just two fingers

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