I
trip over old bones in her closet
from
the last man she brought here
bits
of things left behind
which
she forgot to throw out
meaningless
out of context
except
as clues to some journey
some
other man took
one
of many failed columbuses
who
turned back before
they
fell off the edge
of
her world,
and
I wonder
if
I am any less scared than they,
and
if I, too, will turn back,
the
way they have,
l.eaving
little clues to my passing here
more
bones to collect in her closet
for
future sailors to find.
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