Portugese Lady

Part of the masses, another blue-bottle blip ocean-sweeping ~ sailing blue-massive oscillo-roaming-wind spinning a dizzy-spherical war ~ The appetite to be sated where a new current ushers constant unpredictability on its menu: gleaming silver thrashes on its thready hang Each usual sting, brings on a singular cringe so predictable are its shivers of alas-morass entrenched within a genetic-evolutionary psyche… Luffing, she swells on the blue-flowing-feel another turn, she is riding with the armada Dining, diving, leaving divining to the wind, yet wielding its surprising, wispy, sublimity ~ (11/30/20 For 'it is what it is or is it' contest)