Our love is mixed with algae... br It is tasted with salt. br It is the first fruit of a great struggle for our freedom... br Our love, br Sometimes like a spring breeze.... br Sometimes like a hurricane.... br br We can see the green waves crashing br And cooling the sand.... br br Between this old hot sand and the new salty waves br We can feel our perfect love, br We can see its ripples br And its shifting designs, left behind by the tide br And sculpted by our steps...... br br We can feel our angel, br That angel with injured wings, br We can hear him, still screaming, br We can see him in a sphere of air, br So well hidden. br br Or maybe we are enclosed br In our sphere of reality, br Seemingly a dodecahedral geodesic sphere.... br br As though being hidden in psychological twilight..... br br br However, br We can hear the sound br That sound just like a screaming echo....