The Sea, The Sea

In a house at the edge of a cliff you can hear the sea even with the windows closed but at night in your small bedroom with the green and brown leaves rustling the wallpaper you leave the window open to the wind and even in your sleep hear the sea slap and suck and the pebbles running back to where they were made but the edge of the world is crumbling and houses with both closed and open windows fall into the sea with shops and churches which according to legend still sound their bells in storms and in those smug houses which are safe from erosion the sea even with its windows open and the wind at its back whispers so far away it is lost in the conversation of dreams until now with so little time left almost any empty house will do near or far from the sea even if you have to change the wallpaper.