directionless unswerving

directionless unswerving

{stalled boson}

{Olan Mill}



she drifted on a

seeming sea endless

searching for me,

like a siren

forever drowning, but

without death.

and I am but a shipwreck

apparently out of view

or reach

her hair, entangled and tentacled

like some rare, liminal cephalopod

furling and reaching, for

sensual feedback of the

wreck’s locale, dumped

in some shallow turmoil.

she is lapped, by waves

longing, desolate and

of future love

constantly adrift,

in the directionless unswerving

and sings, brightly

a summoning of

the heavens’ guidance melodious

allowing the interminable waves

to carry her song like

whale-call in the clutches

of some grand messenger bird

sent in the all-focus of a heart

that holds me, in tribute to hands

bereft yet of a lover.


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