Wind Song

You sing,
but your voice is lost
in snarls of sails and that
howl of yours scouring
my spine. Nips and bites.

Sail, sail on tideless days.
Shrill as the chop and heave
of your salty breath, sailing
through this soured sea.
You've drowned my curiosity.

And I’m lost, too lost,
in your monotonous flutter,
wind song clinging to your
breasts, and dressed up
in fog and spindrift.

But the stars cursed you -
turned you old and scarred
as chewed leather, just a
song chasing across the sea.
So I’ll trim my sails, ever on.

Lost, so lost,
but still I sail. Sail on.