Reeling In The Years
I sell her my sail and watch her depart all giddy gulping the salty air. Gulls drop corrosive bombs that stick to her starboard strands. Even rocked to retching, she flashes a pirates smile. I, safe on the shore, sport a skull tight silk scarf before bed, where and when I dream of open seas and mucky hair. Waking up is a veritable nightmare.