Bile and Barnacles

island made of bile and star a bright and lonely speck when the clouds disappear steps of light kiss the land some gilde upon these water steps ... to seek what must be sought especially things that offer sheen to soon enough they bleed upon the jagged lips of Id and want... treading back to where it all began as thunder fins circle around dream made of grit, salt and sand often blood mixes with champagne, the gulls that never take a chance but are quick to spit upon your raped and ravaged dreams and don't the brave lose the heart and legs when seeking gems of flirty sheen... in the end most cling to mundane shoals like barnacles to rocks conceived from the cold