lighthouse

recently ive been trying to figure out how best to go about friendships and relationships...to hold onto but not to grab...to allow but not dismiss...

we push our paper boats

into the fray of ripples,

fragmented pieces of shingle

(worn and kneaded by the hands of time)

grazing our helm,

a prelude to what would become of us,

floating indefinitely in the open sea.

how could we not reach out our hands,

raise our flags and pray to find any

semblance of firmness?

of constancy? of permanence?

it was easy to mistake you for an anchor, love.

your grey bones, frail metal,

sinking beneath the surface,

upon my touch.

we did not stand a chance against

the indomitable waves of high tide.

perhaps we were never meant to stay

grounded between tufts of weed,

obstinate against the current.

perhaps all we can do, my friend,

my love, my captain, 

is keep watch of the amber glow,

wrinkling with every blink,

and learn, too, to wrap ourselves in the blue,

move with it, let it sweep us, let it throw us,

let us have this dance.