what one can do
to placate the weary frown
stuck to your face, mindful
of each crest harpooning
the perceived gentleness
you require.
each hand to deck, each finger
silent beneath frayed rope
and salted rails.
you wanted this journey.
you told me the nearest cape
was only two days away,
filled with gannets embedded
in rough-hewn nests.
unpick each pin
holding these nights together.
unravel each thread
which scars sky to sea.
the wind restores, gives faith
in troubled waters.
we'll reach home,
wherever that may be.
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