Island

Hands and arms in flurry ‘gainst the tide
Drowning more in worry than the waves
Carried less than purely on the fiction that I’ve tried
To say goodbye to, but I slip again – my will, it always caves

Whipping by as pennies in the fount
Offered as if any was a dime
Dreams – I had so many – but I chose to never count
For they were grains within the ever-shifting hourglass of mine

None to less to little turns to more
Pieces – growing brittle – yet remain
Words of “Surely it’ll better be with lessened sores.”
Like fingertips upon my brow when it’s your kiss that causes pain

Head is sinking slowly in the blue
Offering to hold me like a prayer
All the wishes gone and not a one was ever true
For like an island, it would seem, your love was far away – and never mine to share

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