H.P. Podcraft.com.

In the morning, mist comes up from the sea by the cliffs beyond Kingsport. White and feathery it comes from the deep to its

brothers the clouds, full of dreams of dank pastures and caves of Leviathan. And later, instills summer rains on the steep roofs of poets, the clouds

scatter bits of those dreams, that men shall not live without rumor of old strange secrets and wonders that planets tell planets

alone in the night.

When tales fly thick in the grottoes of tridents and conks in seaweed cities blow wild tunes learned from the elder ones.

Then great eager mists flock to heaven laden with lore, and oceanward eyes on the rocks see only a mystic whiteness,

as if the cliff's rim were the rim of all earth

and the solemn bells of buoys told free

in the aether of fairy.

Wow.

I think I just got aroused.

What?

Aroused.

Yeah, all that planted on planet action in that

fair right there.

You know, I was thinking, I was thinking of the, you know, that aether of fairy is the stuff I think the dynasty is when he pulled my wisdom teeth.

It's possible.

Yeah. What are caves of Leviathan?

Leviathan?

Leviathan, that's like just a big sea monster or something.

Yeah, it's just a big old sea monster.

...