Your Ship

The cursive you dip on your paper,

With old-fashioned quill with tip.

The words so harsh and literal,

The immediate thoughts that slip.

The dark and dreary lag of shadows

Extended from your lips.

And inscribed, sailing on your paper

Without a lovely ship.

 

[Refrain]

Diamond sails, but dirty dishes

Climb the high and scale the low.

Your ship’s a sailing thing,

Without a love for anything.

It makes me want to float.

Float away and leave with a wave.

A wave of water and pride.

Without a love for anything,

You whisper ‘goodbye’.

 

So perplexing and truant.

Your last words and deeds.

Rising with the froth and foam.

Your eyes on the sea.

I hope you are listening.

When this bottle hits the shore,

You won’t see my footprints,

You won’t hear my words anymore.

 

[Refrain]

 

I saw your masts of imagery

And doubtful, daring audacity.

I screamed in my everything.

And I left the sea.

Running from you and me

Is harder than it ought to be.

It makes me want to float away.

And leave with a wave

Washing over me.

I see the tide.

And I’m wrecked-ship bound.

I’m wrecked-ship bound.

And we’re nowhere near goodbye.

Author's Note

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