leaving lombok

fades away the

muzzin's call as we leave

port lember behind

old boat

rust eaten

traval companion

true

vessel of emptiness you

plough a path in the sea

ferry us from island to

island in search of

in search of what

you know there're no

shores to be reached

you know our thirst

of crossings is an

invention of waves

just as our shape

that brush stroke of

her iridiscence

suspended

in mid-air

and yet