• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 10
Image by


There’s more sea tonight on these pages;
I’ve been thinking about the sail on your lips
lost of nautical height. We speak in sign
the best way we can; eyes from an island
against hand of segregated belief against words
of an unspoken boat halted sail. The sun is
too hidden for horizons to show. Smoke
from the fire from where your hands carved
a thousand holes mock the sea for its depths
in sight. My arms have died on these waves
where you promised to keep running, away
to meaningful bonds of camaraderie, away
from the spectacle of love; the water-bright
emotions shelled in an empty grenade, wearing
the sock like a sleeve, to show me righteousness,
floating on wheels –