where we left off; mispronunciations abound,

on an island,

those blue waves.

when we were rabid and bruised,

on that island;

those very same waves.

cursed, by those

those blue waves that are mostly black and blue now

and left on the cutting room floor,

of that black and blue island

toothless, drooling but finally repatriated.

Quickly allayed, and just as the the door was opened ,

just barely cracked now, by the wind, by something else.

Exasperated , but fortified, but were looking for something with a little more length.

Just end it here, you cant go on about the crows or the stairs anymore ,

Your beginning to bleed through.