With a spark and a renaissance cradled between us
allow me to ward off a conquering veil
that devours the very Atlantis of you.

Let me know of the nobles that nest in your cave,
horticultures of hope camped in caverns within
and aristocrats savagely living off glories
that no longer dance with the drape of the dawn.
But not once should you ask me to bring them to safety.
Not once should you ask me to nestle these watered-down whims
on a boat bound to sail for a shoreline
unsheltered by shadows that swallow your skin.

For I’m merely the sailor that wades on your docks
with a stray condescension
that welters your waves
and a passing Prometheus bearing a flame you once
made for your self with a strike and a stone.

Let me light up the lighthouse you left on your lips.
Let me detail the dunes that encircle your eyes.
And allow me to make my way back to an ocean
where you are a beaconing promise of land and I’m

merely a voyage that longs for the shore.