We lived in a lifeboat for many years.
A thin rope, frayed, flecked green, connected bow
To a land of heat that observed our pride
As we heaved to draw in when waters ebbed low
To be set out once more, come the high tide.
We grew accustomed to ceaseless bobbing, and
Hunkered down low when scorching tempests raged.
Eyes flicked hard past when we touched morning sand.
Necessities parsed. Consciences purged.
We clambered aboard and held tight our curse
Lest it filled our vessel and saw us merged
As one with the seas. Our ill-starred vessel in it bore
Our crucial, excess selves, flung far from shore.

Do not run to him. He won’t set you free.
His arms don’t promise release, his lips aren’t
Telling you truths. He beguiles, can’t you see
His wreath of lies on a closed door, you can’t
Go through, you won’t come back my love
Would follow, but you would go beyond
My words, my eyes, my soothing touch and you
Could not be free, nor could I, binding bond
Will batter my heart, twist, squeeze, choke through
The hinge, frame, keyhole, send tender shoots of
Mute desperation, then coaxing sap, sop
That speak of trips laughing on the beach, of
The tale of life unlived, brutal full stopp’d.
Do not run to him. He won’t set you free.
Stay ‘til I grow old. You belong with me.