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
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