Harbour Walk
The lecture was loud, yet we heard nothing. A pony ride of abstractions divided the walls, and we saw the outside. Misty but sun cutting through, making a burning hole in the grey. "It will stab through the sky-flesh," I told you. The collar of the harbour was lined with black stones. The waves' ivory tips of lace beating against them like a protest of something we know nothing about. Water keeps its matters to itself. We're locked out. The lecture rages on, softly in the distance. The owner of the words, that got tangled in the mist, was unknown. It was just a voice for all we know. Not coming from a human body. It could have been an animal or computer. It's speech was so deaf, we heard over it. The sea knew nothing and said nothing. We walked on, avoiding the black rocks that saw nothing but to have our softness smashed and blood dye the ivory lace of the water.