Torment

She sat opposite me
in an eight foot kayak
in the center of our dis-course.
Her lips trembled as her fingers
gently tamed the waters.
We remained at our corners,
Inflamed with desires, swollen with pride.
But we never stopped our staring contest,
for I could never escape the grasp of their intent,
not until the promise of landjourneys and lovesakes
was engulfed by the nimbus.

My senses dismantled by the torment
All that remains
are those blue-silver gazes.
As the carriage snaps,
we lunge for the exchange,
restrained no longer,
wrought with terror,
reaching for one another,
but to no avail.

We graze fingertips
as I let her slip away.

I struggle with my 3-foot share
of this contorted paddle boat.
These iron strings tear at the ventricles.
But I will fight this torment
to the ends of my extension,
so long as I am once again inebriated by
the feel of her warmfeather fingertips.

While distance grows,
there is no adhesive,
no regeneration.
My chest is ridden with your remains,
and I am not comforted.


Find me in these waters,
Where I shall forever remain,
collecting fragments of heart strings.