If that is you and him
This is you and I.
With the exceptions
bruised is normal
inside and out
She smells of Voltaire
you of Allium cepa
in the end we both felt like shit
but continue
like always
to hide it
in our own caves
mine worn on tattered sleeves
yours on the shores no one sees
In the crows nest
the thought brought men to knees
or at least saw a seagull
hope for land
a fool I may be
you are just as hopeless as I
forgetting tales of the sea
Before the harbor,
we could lie.
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