celibate

the cold atlantic in augusts long forgotten
lapped white sands dirty with the litter
from a thousand children
the hole they dug now something holy to
them and all the stories I will ever tell
to a thousand children
the stars were ordered to dance, and did
and then, likes balls upon a pool table
created shots for God
the cold atlantic in augusts long remembered
with white heat setting of love
created and shot by God
from a thousand children
and the holes they dug
on a beach littered with my dreams
of white hot love
as it cooled into the icy atlantic.