your body does not yield against
the scratchy pleasure of rope
your feet do not know how to
dance on uneven planks
of rough hewn timber
your blood cannot possibly be skilled enough
to pump your heart loud enough
to drown the call of the waves
so i don’t know why you continue
to insist you are a sailor
bowlegged half hearted promises
of the sights you will show me
one eye open
one hand with fingers crossed
behind your back
but yet you pull that toy spyglass
out of your pocket
close your eyes and point
i see you on horizons
your body pressed against the setting sun
as if to melt against it
ship and all
the stars
like me
already
gone
baby
gone
Archive | Uncategorized RSS feed for this section
