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He Lost Wind Of Her Sails

In the ocean of his mind,
always turbulent,
there sits a Bermuda triangle,
ships being lost, swallowed,
for he was once
a ship lost,
swallowed,
never to be heard
or seen, too,
especially with his ex.
In his coral kingdom,
bright colorful fish swim.
So many.
So many
tangs and angels.
Yet
he is so oblivious to.
It's 
the turbulent,
swirling in his mind,
taking precedence,
two passing ships in the night,
lost,
sailing to where,
who knows.
Each without a dock
or anchors,
or rudders,
sailing, 
sailing in opposite directions.
He pauses to take a look,
at her ship, 
... her.
Still sleek, 
her,
... her
anointed nose 
highly up in the air.
He blinks.
He knows that look,
especially her diction,
authoritative and theologian.
His mind swirls.
Was that the moon howling?
Or was that her?
It can't be her speaking.
She hates him,
not giving him the time of day.
Or was that his subconscious
fluttering?
The voices swirling in his mind.
His voices from the past
stage fright, still ...
voices that never came out.
She had that effect
on him,
at a passing,
a passage of time,
two ships sailing
in opposite directions
... swelling in his mind.

connie pachecho

6/07/17

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