Kygo

Ask any Wilhelm or Ruth, say, if sea breezes inspire a young god,

or not

to dance or be still!

The song, remixed often, is ancient and can grow on

the heart

(listen!) Every delectable

lip, eye, of even the gangster can spread to the heavens

with it

A saint named the Cat, too

or Felicissimus can't have been a more enwrapped witness

to sound,

or a pockmarked virgin of cities

standing on the rocks in a flouncy pose, eyes down

( I can't help but enlarge on her when I hear Kygo!)

or the catfish down in the deep end that sleep with martyrs!

Deserts won't be still with it either