anchored

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I’ve taken on water
 
since anchoring
this little wooden boat to your love.
 
I bail it out continuously
but it sloshes back in –
a reminder of my foolishness.
 
A skilful sailor
can see a storm coming,
can tell from the vast clouds of
 
turbulence past that
it’s time to turn ‘round, and how!
 
To stay anchored for a storm
that one has seen coming:
death-certain a mistake.
 
I’m worried that the chain will break!
 
before you come for me, or
before I’ve plotted my
way back to you.
 
It’s all that I have:
this boat, this ark, this
heartful of tears and time
 
since we kissed each other
goodbye.
 
since we thought it wise to try
to pacify this ocean by letting it be-
 
tween us.
 
*
 
An experienced sailor knows
most drownings are deserved,
that should he become one with the sea
 
it was a unity he had been courting.