Seven Seas

Adrift in rite, Forethrift of every wind-sworn thing. By Night and Gale Banshee wale, styled in Sylphstream. A symbol vibrates the sound of the wind over the water as I sail across a sea of dream. Like a wing that dips into mercury, tooned in 4D. A mechanical organic resonance hums a disrobe, in the key of seduction's promised seed. Hidden depths of self, trigger emotion and thoughts of infinity. A crystal echo mirrors my sanity, probing mind for a seam. Scales highs, low, of life with scalar harmonic menagerie. Celestial steps of tran-quils, shooting will O Wisp needling cat paw purr and kneed of thoughts and love-ry, obsessioning, devotion wrought to weave. The motion of a veil, lifting upon the breath of misty lung, abreast of passionate swell and it's chum chum, ding ding ding at feasting bell. With every gust of wind, it whispers well of it's designs, sharing it's secrets of the universe-,spring, filling, you as the cosign. A sail, umbrella dances windswept jowl of hood to the rhythm of multi verse, a serpentine lull. In Fourth Dimensional inlet reach. The waves rise and fall. Like a coastered street beneath the underneath, beneath it all. A cable leads you umbilically drawn to a place of discovery. Opening before you, immodestly ajar. To you, the one, who dares to drone a peak at it's forbidden verizon. The sailgoat that dances to the rhythm of the cosmos. A stranger in a strange land, that errgoes. The waves rise and fall, a mirroring ebb and flow, of the highs and lows of life, let go.