Poetry

The trapped body 
will not listen to baby fugue. 
 
The perception will find― 
the writing on the flute. 
 
For Neptune, the liquid 
carries your voice. 
 
The fugacity will find 
the tongue of eternity. 
 
The sea has divided 
the land. Water sends the wreaths. 
 
The future will keep an eye 
on the scavenger, time. 
 
There were signs. It was going 
to become a predator.