circular

i'm not going down, i'm going round¹;
who do i think i am kidding?
i long ago stopped
navigating with this compass
- going around in circles -
i'm not doing this to stay alive
i'm doing this to start living.

i am the five of cups²
- the five of water -
and you have become the cold
creeping under my clothes
while i am burning
up here on this deck.

and you prey on my thoughts,
mocking the fact that i can't even
remember the other two i have lost
or the other two i still have
but refuse to take.

and well, it's far too early
to grieve all of my losses
- to lay this on my conscience -
so you can keep your twilight -

you catch me in your range lights.
oh, what i wouldn't do –
one slips out – you slip in –

and i should not be having these dreams
but i can't help it –

three's two too many.

¹ "Mais tourner n'est pas tomber, et l'idee du cercle, fut-il vicieux, ne so confound pas avec celle de la decadence." Pierre Brunel in his introduction to Rimbaud.

² The five of cups, a card from the Minor Arcana of the Rider Waite Tarot Deck, features a man in a black cloak, staring at three overturned cups, spilling wine onto the grass. Behind him are two more cups, full and upright, unnoticed.

A/N: Yes, this makes little sense, except to me. I like it that way. I'm pleased with this one – I like the sea/water imagery. I've wanted to write something 'on a boat' for a while, so I'm glad I finally managed to. Am also insanely pleased with the buildup/builddown : 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Also mention: intentionally repeated line from my other poem birthday in the sentence "i should not be having these dreams". Well. I shouldn't be.