That night he dreamed of a ship in the sea
That would carry his father and he
To a place they would never be found
To a place far away from this town
A Newcastle ship without coals
They would sail to the Island of Souls

Sting: Island of Souls


Screw grammar because life has no full stops


(If it did, I would have put one on a warm sandy scented night;
the taste of sweat on your upper lip and running home;
chlorine smell of swimming pools, dune hills and hating Sting before I knew who he was.
(See how self-indulgently stupid things look with all those comas and semi-colons?))