And so I set myself adrift
on a capricious sea,
prone to unpatterned winds and
The danger of being caught between
two symbiotic, warring gods
is less dangerous and painful
than what I leave behind.
Whether my new home will be a bright new shore,
or the briny ocean’s silted bed, is for them to say.
As I push off, there is no one there on shore to share a kiss,
and mourn and say farewell, no one to witness the wake I leave save for the
dull grey gulls, and the cirrus clouds suffused with color by the rising sun.
And yet I travel on with hope in my heart,
to fill the lonely days by a loving hearth,
as the cold of Time draws close, and
all I am and was called to be,
I want to call you beautiful.
I see the question in your eyes, like slow moving water
under thick ice,
just beneath the surface.
I cautiously tap the word with my mind, and it tumbles down
onto my tongue, waiting for me to say.
No idea as to how you’d react, what you think,
or what you will say
when I give the word to you.
I swallow it, leaving it unsaid, and stash it
with the thousand other times I wish I didn’t.
And whatever tears you might cry,
and whatever else may flutter your heart
if I did,
are trapped again in the the ice that returns
to your gaze.
Are we mad at my silence, or relieved?
I do know the question in your eyes will resurface,
and I might even be ready, at last.
I want to call you beautiful before
and me and you