I Ate My Gull Friend

Far adrift from the shores of myself or anything else, wind and current don't play any favorites they just do their own silent-timeless- unravelling dance. Whittling days into wormwood, making friends with a chatty gull or is it just waiting for me to go under to pluck the shine from my eyes I vow not to be the first one to go. Suns move along, the horizon doesn't care, made some fishing line from a lock of blonde hair and a lure of hope from the bones of my gull friend. Nothing I could do, I was famished and floundering. Besides it knew it was nothing but winged sacrifice. In a star crushed night something rammed the side of my flanks woke to an impish leak trying to suckle the life out of me. Then there was a black water silence. Its not like bad karma to suddenly drift away, so beneath my leaking float the rammer will probably stay. Early morning was spent bailing and patching luring the silver shoals of hope within range bailing and patching nibbling and napping obsessing prodding the sharkness away- Quiet day no breeze-not even one little wave a hot brain day missing my chatty gull friend today, maybe I was supposed to be its sacrifice. Launched the final flare at a fancy yacht mirage filled with cheap bikinis and plush caviar- had a good giggle then shouted in vain as a giant barge left me.. a wrinkled leaf twirling in my own wake. 39 driftwood days and nights later Poseidon kissed my salty- battered bow I rolled over the dream breakers and back onto the shores of myself.