We never plan on loving
That night the sea couldn’t sleep.
Tired of counting, always counting the waves
it wanted to live somewhere far away
where it could discover its true bitter color.
Insomniac, it started mumbling vague phrases.
Ocean liners softly criss-crossed each other
through the depths of night,
their smooth white bodies wore the clothes of oblivion
as they traveled towards nothingness.
The sea sang storms and tempests, thundering river mouths
below darkening skies
below darkness itself
the always bitter darkness of birds and stars.
The sea’s voice journeyed on across lights, across rain and cold,
to reach those cities raised up to the clouds:
Serene Sky, Colored Sky, Hell’s Glaciers,
all pure lands of snow, of stars fallen
into earth’s frail hands.
But the sea got tired of waiting for the cities.
Over there, its loneliest love became a vague pretext,
an outdated smile
unseen by all.
And, dreaming again, it made its way back slowly
to that place where no one knows anything about anyone,
where the world is starting up.
Art: Luna, Evelyn De Morgan