UNDREAMT

He was strange

He had an odd scent

Something of the salt and the sea

Something of blood and a knife

 

He was not the one

Neither tall nor strong

But he had something of a dream

A ghost lying lost in the scribbles of a notebook

 

It was undreamt, unexpected

It grew slowly and steadily

Faintly in the gasp of a sudden laugh

Softly in the husk that is a word

 

It was overwhelming

When it swelled and burst

Flooding me with the scent

            Of salt and the sea

Taking me with the feel

            Of blood and a knife

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