We walked for a while on the busy street you were merging and fading among the people in and out of focus. Your hair was spiky our shirts were like stopsigns-headlights reflecting into our bodies the lights were just a line they were here and there.

On the sand where the ocean echoed back to us - it was no ocean in the first place, we dived like tatooed necklaced dolphins into the sea and smoke, but no, into the sand instead, and came out fresh and a little tired, and into the light where all our friends were. On the sand where we were sitting barefoot we sipped up our reluctance we smoked our fears we injected our objections were fear is but a dream life is not in history books life is now, we said, and we felt like hippies drinking of love and smoking up peace On the sand They were drawing us in spary paint on sheets of cloth in blue, you and me and they.

When the fire started we were already lost where courage music played we were uniformed tightly a beat at a beam of computer vibrating to the ocean and getting vibrations back. When the fire started everybody went to the beach to watch as it was all going down the sky rolling down on it's stars and the ocean calling back up. People on the promenade stopped to watch as one as we melted into a vangogh but they were no concern of ours. What we saw wile drifting into the crowds into eachother apart for a moment then back again like the tides what we saw now was the very same thing. A swirl containing the spectrum at parts the oceans drained from dolphins and hopes all falling into now, the sky the water the synthesizer. It was the very same thing as the crowd on a Eilat promenade at quarter past midnight, late November. (freeze version)

(sand it itches my eyes it vibrates with the beat which sinks into earth and everywhere earth the country turns on it's heels this night like every other (in a week) and we are the axis)