I am done wishing
for the wind to come
for a voice to whisper
for buoys

for I have unloved another and another
claiming the moon as my excuse
for the open window in my heart
and the vagabond somersaulting over and over
my brain’s wheel and chains in a
dull shrill infatuation for a body and the next
until my poor toes, dipping deep in dreams of water cool, and gray carpets of 10yrs dirt,
yelled “nothing comes when you wait”
not a bridge, a ladder or even a rope

So I am done wishing
for there will be no higher ground
just the godless amphibian within
clutching on invisible lines
tying worlds together in an unholy carcass of love
watching it flicker, turn bigger and disappearwith sorrows of winter past