Sora

This morning I sat beside you
As you lay in bed, tightly closed
I tentatively touched your back
To feel the temperature of this moment
To gauge the subtle currents
Tempestuous yet removed
That swirled cool between us
I know the tone, the clipped “fine”,
A somatic tension carried
In the riptide.

I offer an opening
Questions I already know the answer to
And wait.

Wait to map the edges
Of my starry-eyed tears from
Last night. Wait
To know how far we are from shore
From home. Wait
To float alone in the flotsam
Even as you tell me
There is no ocean.

I have spent many days
Like this, adrift
Lost between my knowing
And your denial.
You will row out to me
In your time. I hope
Before I drown.
To get into the boat
I will apologize
For the naming of pain
For the wetness of the sea.