Shearwater sighed, like a whale in the night.

I’d sip your tears with a straw while you sleep, because I’m thirsty for your love. And the more I’d drink, the thirstier I’d become. Your love is oceanic.

In school I ended up writing three different papers on “The Castaway” section of Moby-Dick, the chapter where the cabin boy Pip falls overboard and is driven mad by the empty immensity of what he...

All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide;but a hidden star can still be smiling at night’s black spell on darkness, beguiling