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Description
It was almost lost...

It washed back
during breakfast
this dream...

I was in a boat
at the end of the world
It was the last chance
for all to get in

And they were...
the young
the crumpled old

the mists of the Could Not Yet Be Seen
enshrowded the bay
and all the time
was running out of the world
It would be soon....

You were there

You stood upon the shore
in the dress I bought you

You called to me come back
Tears in your eyes
and the beckoning
of wordless despair

The gulf of only a choice
between us
as wide as the sea
and there will never be
another chance

But forsaking this
the sea would not forgive
and there your stood

I called you to come
but I saw...

Somewhere
the cord
that tethered
the seen to the unseen
broke

A trumpet blew
and the wind blew your hair across your eyes

I woke

Somewhere
not in the dream
an image whispered in...
a blue dress beneath the waves
dark with the soft unyielding current
that drew it sleeping into the depths

I never finished breakfast
I didn't do anything that mattered
for a long long
time

Oilgraph 1998
Very early work
I don't even know where the original is anymore

Description
It was almost lost...

It washed back
during breakfast
this dream...

I was in a boat
at the end of the world
It was the last chance
for all to get in

And they were...
the young
the crumpled old

the mists of the Could Not Yet Be Seen
enshrowded the bay
and all the time
was running out of the world
It would be soon....

You were there

You stood upon the shore
in the dress I bought you

You called to me come back
Tears in your eyes
and the beckoning
of wordless despair

The gulf of only a choice
between us
as wide as the sea
and there will never be
another chance

But forsaking this
the sea would not forgive
and there your stood

I called you to come
but I saw...

Somewhere
the cord
that tethered
the seen to the unseen
broke

A trumpet blew
and the wind blew your hair across your eyes

I woke

Somewhere
not in the dream
an image whispered in...
a blue dress beneath the waves
dark with the soft unyielding current
that drew it sleeping into the depths

I never finished breakfast
I didn't do anything that mattered
for a long long
time

Oilgraph 1998
Very early work
I don't even know where the original is anymore