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The anchors that hold me down make me drown, while I am crunched between wind and sea. Lost at sea, my fishing pole anchors won’t hold. They fish and fish and bring up fish, But I don’t like to eat fish, and I carefully, very carefully, set them free. Instead, I look for power in the size of a sail, and laugh at the size of sailor’s masts. The anchors that hold me down make me drown, while I am crunched between wind and sea.
Today I crunched a snail between shoe and clay. Crunch and ooze. it made me think of you. with jellyfish beneath my feet I could walk on water, but instead here I go again. Second time around, sleepless on a docked boat, beneath the waning moon, and crunching snail shells (little moons) beneath me. Poor little moons. I am cursed. Again. Slipping between sail and sea, the anchor is not free like me to drown.
Everyone here is too busy for tea. after my first kiss, I knew it would change. Everyone here is too busy for me. Orion's belt is familiar; I am estranged. I wish everything could be forever. The fires destroy and bring renewal. Still, I find comfort in my loneliness. we are tiny daisies, ephemeral; I pour tea, share cake and sweetness. I wish everything could be forever.