Until you lose what you had won.

Pretend we're on a boat and pretend it's a party and pretend the weather was fair and so was the air.

Pretend the seas were small until thunder made waves and shook us all up so bad and some got so sick they couldn't see straight anymore and some lost heart.

Just pretend.

Pretend the shore came and went but we all stayed aboard because we were together, at least.

Pretend the seas seemed calm again and pretend there was music and pretend it was loud so we all danced and stars still twinkled so pretend some more.

Pretend someone had a belly full of salty air and couldn't find relief unless he lay down and pretend he did.

And pretend we let him because we aren't doctors or sailors and there was nothing else for it and pretend no one even recognized it for some time and pretend every one did but just kept dancing because we aren't doctors or sailors and don't know the seas, as small as they are.

Pretend someone propped him so he doubled over and spew the air and pretend there was more to it and pretend it was ill and foul and some just turned away because we're not doctors.

Pretend the foulness of the air demanded the dancers' attention and the band gave up playing to take up sailing and pretend the thunder came again and dared to take offense.

And pretend the thunder had grown more powerful and less resistant and pretend Thunder comes now with Lightning and we are all alone on the water with Nowhere to hide and pretend, in our isolation, we made a decision.

Pretend we pasted on smiles so Thunder wouldn't rumble but the foulness of the air was stronger still and pretend our faces were green save the dancers who tried to know how to doctor but only knew to dance.

The time came to find our land legs again for, small as it is, the sea just keeps us sickly if we let it.

Pretend the seas were too small, after all, and pretend we found the shore because we're not good sailors or doctors, after all.

Or even dancers, for that matter.