Champagne turns black as I shed it out at sea at night. Water’s calm and breathes close to me, I breath to, lying on the back, sinking bruised in the soaked sand. The mark will remain, the higher the tide… the mark is on the depth. I’ve tried to get back to the way it was before, but the closer I get, the worse it becomes. Black champagne… I’ll drink to all the things are going wrong. I will start from the beginning and I will end at the only end and in between the ocean I pull through. The mark will still remain, the higher the tide… the old mark is on the depth. I’ve tried to slink away …the nerve not to hesitate, but the stronger I push away, the further I sink… and stay.