“Like pirates off your shores of waste
our kiss you can forget
a newborn sense of smell and taste
for things you’ve never met
our nose no longer knows the heel of
give it more and give it faster
our pleasures still retain their feel for honor is their master
three winds fill the sails of my sisters and my brothers
grace from beyond, scorn from behind,
and love for each other.”

Ballydowse – Sails