The sails have risen
with the sky painted crimson,
and the water reflecting its reign.
I hear singing, I hear it ringing,
pounding on my drums making me
lose my breath.
It is divine, I need it to be mine,
the beauty, the rum, to be set aside
The voices dull, the waves crash in,
causing me to slip and fall and stumble over
The sails are torn,
tattered and worn,
with salt glistening off its bruises.
I wring myself out to be laid in the sand,
only to hear the song playing for another woman.