Unsure steps on sodden stones
Send a smoke to glimmering stars
Through the chinks in leafy tent,
Where perhaps they may condense,
Hieroglyphs of shared minds,
Which no parchment scroll contains,
In these logs of scraps and tweets.
Mingling still in unknown crowds,
I speak a coral language now;
Too far down from jostling foams;
Waiting for one daring plunge
Into the cliffs that nestle in deep.