I’ve gone east
and then further east.
back west,
and then west till it was east
…all to find my love,
running on her beach of crystal sand.
I’ve smashed bottles against walls and hulls
cutting my hand
and breaking my watch.
toasting to her beauty
I’ve slept on a bed of feathers, in comfort
on a mat of foam, exhausted
all the while dreaming,
that it was in her arms that I lived,
and breathed and slept.
I’ve drank with my monster in crowded pubs
it’s green eyes scanning,
shit-faced and telling jokes,
bumming the last of my smokes,
points to a woman sitting at the bar
with auburn hair and eyes of blue.
she has a name written on the palm of her hand.
the fortuneteller gave her initials
and exactly how tall he stands
to him she’s love
to us she’s lust
so coming here
and going there
shit-faced, but I’ve kept an eye out.
but I can’t say that I have,
from west to east to west till it was east,
but I can’t say I’ve seen her,
love…
running on her isle's beach.