There was a day when the sailor would walk past my window
leave a red rose on my third step,
every day a petal fell, every minute the rose had died
I walked after him, I had always tried
he had reached the harbor before I had arrived
more, I just needed one more, a rose to last
just as I leaned over the barricade, I looked not at the water crash
but in front of me his face, eyes of dark ash

black rubies, two darkened suns

piercing gaze held long enough to save the rose from death, too short for it to live
I turned away, the reflection of my eyes in his too startling to bear
and instead I closed mine, and jump over onto the deck
only I missed the boat by a lifetime, crashing into the waters,

no one came to save me, so I walked out

dripping I soaked the rug, and used it to dry myself off
but my heart had never dried, and stood alone shivering in front of the hearth

there was a day when a drunk walked by, singing a song so merry
he left a glass bottle, caked with a coating of whisky, and a drop of sherry
I took it in and inhaled its sent, a strong sea brine, a blue green wine
my soul was bitter and salty too,the perfect home I thought
I placed my self in that bottle, sealed it with a dry tear
I rolled myself down to the harbor, launched my self into the calm

and watched my drink drown

this time a savior came for me, as I was picked up by the tide,
there a mist of the faint song, a rose whose petals lied
as my bottle settled on the ocean floor
on a fallen mast, whose white sails the wind had tore

all a shipwreck love