Don’t wish me goodnight

The blanket of night lays humid, hemmed with jewels.

A sky I’ll never admire alone again.

Couldn’t sleep, the rocking chair of waves

too sweet a lull, betraying the deep’s ever-shifting mood.

But tonight the sky is carpeted in lazy wonder,

galaxies unfurling like wings, shifting winds.

You sit in the sky with me,

one hand absentmindedly curling and uncurling a nebula.

Stars march across my face like freckles,

casting a warm glow way up here,

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where no one ever says goodnight.

Seaworthy

Why catch a ride without the drop,

why sail a sea without the storm.

Don’t haul the ship to land,

coffined in the docks or chained to the floor,

anchor rusting. The tempest hits hard and fast,

coughing air from your lungs,

and the gales and gusts squall,

knocking you to your knees in an act like prayer.

But those same manic winds fill

our sails with unbroken force,

delivering us from the dull throb

of an ark robbed of life.

Follow the ride down into the depths,

laughing from the sheer ache of living.