Lost and buoyant, drifting in this boat
you come to mind as I continue to float
What's the world like past these shallow waves?
This I ask ye, the experienced sailor.
I've picked enough flowers of romantic notions
and plucked away my disinterest and shame,
tossed them into the oceans.
The teas and coffeespoons in foreign lands
I'm sure would help me think. Because the
water here's polluted and it's causing me to sink.
Capsizing, I know, is a possible fear,
but it's happened before and I've cried all those tears.
I'll travel along across this meadow of waves,
past many deep, scary caves,
with the intention of forgetting all the yesterdays.
Next time you go can I sit at your side?
Cocktail in hand, and I'll bring my pride.
If that's what it takes, but really I hope
you would prefer to drive bikes up and down
the coast of this lake. Portend to think and
splatter some ink bout the romance we'll determinedly make.
You'll fill up film and I'll fire up the kiln
and, thus, our evening is beautifully cast.
Of friendships in the past which have advanced
this fast, I was told it would never last.
But this seems hopeful and I wish you'd take control,
I need encouragement and support.
When it comes to hooking up I'd rather you push.
I'll be your bitch if you'll be my slave.
And if hard and fast is all you're prepared to give,
I'll open myself to the seafarer's waves.
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