A limping body’s nails dug into the falling crests of light and tides Its threads, woven, coloured, shed shadows on the tug of war The fact of distance was hid, by layer upon layer Of sweetness among oceans, far from present Dry fading cells fell on many shores, swelling with dream Dwelling in minds, power held in each coast A pleasant hunger satisfied by a morning slurp Its shouts climbed the well walls, holding on every cry and piece The figure rushes, laying claim on waves