03AHJ_VutXWScAXV577l3_fdApnw1Y0c8ZBcmL4tm8YQj2abu3i5tQ-l31KCNAeoqye-Zg_9ArhXSmnnWVdIxGWc0AVjG-LHyipOFXgJoRqzinSoAdXtOUhT4chSCJX7r8m4Pbojc9QQb5-n823FtCjmPjYpDk5VcNiXZMosBjyYheJnBlWN1tn7Z0hFl4jIFHpoKQFfmPe6U0hYZo5J9QuPqLPjnDou1GnNahPjfXUm7YY4IMB-7jbciAiCcSnIgwWRzHcTX3Ik4aPWLn36X5FXaExxjVQp6Rz3VYKcszlCeo6SMCPrs8ZLuJYEt3zqjwvlxYR-Zby2sKpAVvTY_uI6mwAKyUlN8W6wAnFQR-aGRx2yAXvx2BglN1qr6TTzhbWifSri83H1uYYW1jqCpSkjHNG7_NMSoFjA

In the Bay, whenever I got depressed, I always drove out to the Ocean Beach. Just to sit. And, I don't know, something about looking at water, how it just goes and goes and goes, something about that I found very soothing. As if somehow I were connected to every ripple that was sending itself out and out until it reached another shore.

You can never have too much sky . You can fall asleep and wake up drunk on sky, and sky can keep you safe when you are sad.

And the sea trickling out of my eye as if I'd always carried it inside me, like a seashell waiting to be cupped to an ear.

Alone, all alone in the world, sad and small like a nightingale serenading the infinite. How could a love so tender and sweet become the cross of my pain? No, no, I can't conceive I won't receive your precious lips again. My eyes are tired of weeping, my heart of beating. If perhaps some crystal moment before dawn or twilight you remember me, bring only a bouquet of tears to lay upon my thirsty grave.