As we rise,

                  so shall we fall-

                  those who go down to the sea

                            in ships that never return.

What is the physicality of their fear? does it linger

                        In their veins,

                                    throat,

                                    behind their eyes?

 

 

Is it,                                                                                                                                  tangible,

as mine,                                                                                                              as present as

masked and veiled,                                                                                          the wooden ship

emerging fragmented?                                                                            beneath their feet?

 

Make No Mistake-

this isn’t a fairytale

there is a cost of living

and a price of dying

 

 

 

Ships sink into the sky only in dreams.

Forgiving and forgetting is fairytale.

 

Here, we regret.

She remembers when she’s cried.

She recalls who has cried around her.

They sign leases.

He goes to the bathroom after lunch.

 I take only a minute to breath-

and then I leave.

We live in escapades,

not sagas.

 

We do not wake up.