the next ship is setting sail
the last one
a ghost ship?
the captain announces
yes, this cargo is all moribund
ballast
I shall go with it
since it seems I must
better to rest on rocking ballast
than to wait
forlorn
and anxious on the quay
this is the last ship out of here at all
they say
no one will remain behind
why should I?
even though the journey a head is long
and largely aimless
while no love awaits
those who sail this Charming Nancy
at least perhaps, some frigging in the rigging
yes I am tempted
to wait behind
see if my lover comes to join me
the temptation is strong
beguiling
but I think fruitless
from mother's water
to the sea's waves
to theta waves
always I am further from the point of origin
further from my dream of you
you are, after all, but a dream, no?
I dreamed of you along the Welsh sea
long, long ago
it was a strong, rich dream
like all dreams
a convenient, momentary, chemical
neurological fiction
you were born out of my pituitary needs
my addiction to meaning
to relevance
all those cells are gone now
and your magic a ghost of memory
but ghosts, real or perceived, still haunt...
should I embark with the vessel
will leaving the shore behind
leave you behind as well
I wish to know
haunted planted, or haunted travelling
haunted still
perhaps left behind in the ruined past
I could be free to dream only of you
and live only in my dream
thus I would not care
I could rot like seaweed and beached cockles
all the while dreaming
Last night I felt you close
almost real
tonight I feel I await a ship that will never dock
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