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The Sailor

Warm night stretches its silent breaths across these stagnant hours

They ripple like an unworldly ocean that tempts a sailor’s most strained reach

But my sails are torn through with a wanderer’s navigation

Upon this endless sea of patient hopes and horrors

And I close my eyes dream tight in sewn with such a fright

That upon their parted shutters I will still see nothing

Because your smile feints just over that intangible horizon so taunting

Smile into the day as I pull myself through the dark

So I took on the edge of the world, the edge of sanity

Clutching at the crags to pull myself out of this dull droned deep hell

Above the clouds into my florid reveries with fragile flight

Although I lost all names and labels of retold in folded certainties

I finally made it through the strong woven break

But who’s to tell me when I am to ever wake?

Definitely upon indefinite travel, this weary and constant sailor says

Not even you.

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a
Written by
andrew-robinson
American
Published
Jun 7, 2010
Lines·Words
16·169
Notes

All original work with rights to Andrew Lui Robinson

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