peering into the fog

the stiffness of the wind

implores the mist depart,

exhorting heavily upon her mooring.

yet to her anchor desolate she clasps

no cerulean dome

will redeem this scapegoat grey,

nor break her chains of gloom

for she longs to linger here on the horizon

surveying, to be seen

yet shrouded in a fog that penetrates her bones

and provides the only water fresh

that she has ever tasted on her tongue

her silhouette revealed

only by this draping, dripping swathe

unbound, unwound she disappears

for she will not expose herself to light

and so she clutches shadows

even as her slicker eludes touch

and balms through her do pass

like blind men groping in the dark

they stretch toward her mournful moan

never landing on her substance

she withdraws with the wretched

pushed out to sea at last

by insistent hands unto saltwaters vast

only to be drawn again by passing clouds of dark

who recycle her desire and her despair

into their dismal hope.

Her soulful gaze


within the stillness of the eye

yearning for release.

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