The sailors

Surely the lines that raised these sails were the same that had risen the great sails of the Star of India as it navigated Desolation Sound. Surely none had breathed this air, so deliciously salty, but those who could call themselves adventurers by career.
Roofs and walls and other weapons of oppression forgotten, we simply breathed and let the air intoxicate us with stories of the wild, the wind, and what lived under the sea.

Kundera's fairytale

I am a haze of fairytale ideals and romantic myths.
Daydreams on horseback woven into harpists' songs
and the deep, sad hum of a fairytale princess in a muddied dress, all alone at a foreign ball, dancing Kundera's Last Waltz to the slow, sad tune of Once Upon a Dream.