Who in the trees
will come down to the beach
to kiss you in front of the sea
the sea that is covered in beautiful trash

While a woman in a blanket heals my wounds
and who will lay your blanket on the sea
Ms. Melody
and break your sister on the sands
while the radio plays:

And her epic fingers,
and her legendary torso,
and her feet smelling of limes my love
punctuated by sweet sounds dot dash;

who will stand behind the lens and,
affectionately,
let her pound her pianos with hammers
in a little boy's dream while the radio sleeps.