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.