justwrite 2 february

a ferry crosses the parking lot ready to adopt the first unrehearsed seagull it finds but no matter no mind no storm has scattered matters otherwise but straight and all those kings are in their counting houses the beaches reach far enough for all bluffs to be called back home on a seashell phone when we are alone we imagine the ocean and floating face up in conference with the sun imagining how it’s all to be done without extra acreage in the scale of time and what I find is there’s no bridge there is only swimming and that living is made up of these strokes we poke our hopes in the eye and then cry when they fall through pop and drop into the deep sleeping until we wake enough to shake off such responses until we know how to treat sows and their ears and where we want the pearls to be cast and how fast we imagine we’ll catch anything with bait like that and is it fate that’s sat on the windowsill or is that still the sun shining through is it true the curtains are uncertain whether to depart or to part in pieces releasing the view and imagining you will leap up and drink in from the brink of a brick wall three meters tall and there you go as your hair flows downward as makes sense but you can’t climb down your own vanity only up and up despite the troubles you’ll face at the top I am adopting clouds instead of children I am aware of their inability to stay cohesive but this may be the truth we’re all used to by now and how glad we are to show scars and raise the bars when still we feel we win something untouchable within