..the sun sets late in the land of lies..

The sun sets late in the land of lies.
The fluid tide sliding out against a back drop of bleeding hearts and fruity drinks and melting honey.
The days stretched on forever, out into oblivion, dragging on and on until time losses all meaning and an hour does not mean and what it does to you and I.
It is not a classification of time, but rather an abbreviation for nine hundred crashing waves, for two hundred and twelve breezes, for one hundred four gull cries.
There is no separation of sky and sand and sea, but only one vast melting pot of surf and sun and salt and silly games and lazy days and one more fruity drink.
The days are long in the land of lies, and each day must be taken for granted to truly be enjoyed.
Next to diamond and furs , what are a few drops of melted golden sunlight?
Everything.
What are the pearls of salty water beaded on your skin?
Everything.
What are the lacy waves nipping at your toes and warm and thighs?
Everything.
And once you are there, clothes in the splendid robes of arrogance, you never have to leave.
Not ever.
You can stay in your isolated paradise, your tropical beach of perfection, and never, ever worry about any one else again.
Yes, the sun sets late on the land of lies.
...üä