Eight salty Beaufort striking my face
at the edge of Inverness.
With my hands wide open
I'm balancing like a seagull
in front of the black and angry Atlantic.
I feel your lonely sunset
as you cross the ocean for hours.
I feel your longing wave
as you come to reach and burst out on the beach.
But since I was a child
an unknown star
permanently drives me to chaos,
and it is impossible to resist.
I travel thirsty on clear waters.
I travel hungry in fruitful gardens.
With great eagerness,
that suffocates inside my breast.
With an insistent deputy,
being stuck as chewing gum under my shoe.
This world is so vast.
and this brain, so restricted.
When will I find a beach?