Friday, August 29, 2014

The salty haze of uncertainty



Friday, August 29, 2014


I breathe the scent of salmon
As the net scrapes against my thigh
And I think of you
And the sea we all sale in
Waiting for the mesh to drop
The panic in the up-churned waves
The up and down and sideways
That leaves us perpetually confused
As to which way we have come
Or where we should go,
The tight ropes that bind us
And scrap our sin with a mixture
Of pain and pleasure,
The lost of the unknown
Mingled with the lack of free will,
The prickly coarse entwinement
Containing us as the moist fingers
Beats around us and over us,
And yet we somehow remain secure,
Wanting sure hands to haul us in,
A warm touch to rub those limbs
Where the ropes chafed
To ease the ache with bliss
And until we cannot tell
Which is which, nor care,
Only that we are no longer lost,
No longer drowned
In the salty haze of uncertainty.



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