Might I fathom
the spaces between the seconds.

Might I plot
each mark on the map.

Might I track
the footsteps that I've left behind.

Might I absolve
the mind ensnared in a trap.

Chronicle these breaths.
And lay them naked
on paper - for the world
to see and judge,
like you know you should.

Dissect them...
With the sharpness
of your scalpel-like thoughts,
like you always would.

Fall in love with them.
Tag them with unspoken words
all too familiar.
Then cast them unto me...
When you finally know you could.

A vessel set sail.
In the early call of day.
She lurched and bobbed,
as she moved across the bay.

From bow to stern
acknowledged by the morning light.
Her dew stained deck
- proof of restful slumber in the night.

With the earth’s fresh breath,
its majestic sail bloated full.
Her mast spoke in creaks
as wind and current made its pull.

A lone seafarer stood motionless.
His eyes squinted in the sun.
Deft hands on the wheel
as they steer and run.

Just out of the cove,
she’s now far off and seemingly small.
A silhouette about to disappear,
I await its return, when the sun begins to fall.