Somehow my mind has slipped away from me.
Once again my eyes strain-- I search for it like I would a child,
and for a brief time, I remembered.
Like making my first few breast strokes in uncharted waters and
letting the waves break over my head, the memory surfaced --
stark-white and silver-fined, wearing a death grin.
It has swallowed the sun.
In a moment, it will carry me farther into the waves,
and father a novel emotion, deep within my heart.
It is a tenuous thing, basking at the edges of my fingertips.
I know that you have done this.
With a moon crescent smile,
and a coo, soft as a dove's,
you bring upon me malignity.
And yet I can still turn away from you,
I can retreat into the far recesses of repression
where your waters are powerless to flood me.
I can rest here, in this new-found Eden,
beneath a new Sun,
beneath an existence I have created with
the same delicacy it takes to create such masterpieces.
I may not be safe here.
The tide will soon rise again,
but I will not lose myself.
You may remind me of what I once had,
and what I have, forever, lost;
but with my own certain contempt,
I can sail your waters.
