The masts are barely visible now, shapeless figures stretching toward the sky. The wooden hulls creaking and purring at the soft caress of the sea below.
The tides have ceased, no longer carrying lovers out to sea or fisherman back to shore.
In their wake, a melody of somber waves and a restless breeze.
The horizon has all but vanished now, save for the faint glow of the gilded lights that dance across the surface, illuminating the anchored vessels, their sails slumbered for the eve.
The stars take turns peeking from behind the turquoise sky, the last remaining light lingering amidst the clouds, not ready to let go.
The gold rimmed frame is what holds you here. Perched above the piano. Trapped in an eternal dusk.