Who you are intrigues me sends airs of ambiguity What you want bewilders me Tongue-ties my soliloquy Average Seadog unbedeviled describes this tired mind killer instinct boat adrift Out of sight of the good shoreline. Hearts afire akindle flames Minds desires take down reigns Thoughts admired show no constrains And two bodies wired should measure careful aims. So just offshore my skiff skutters Tempests rage in a heart that flutters “All hands on deck I see a storm.” Is the hurricane the new norm? Will a hurried man still tan just because the suns so hot Maybe so Maybe not If Time could read could it solve its own plot? Maybe so Maybe not. If when we die we live again and when we live we die again should we not try to be again the one we know who we are not? Maybe so Maybe not. Not every ship gets to shoring Not every skipper meets his mooring knot every wind fills a sail not every sailor meets a whale not every race is made in haste not every lip sinks a ship but does every star guide a tiller? Maybe so Maybe not. Stuck on a reef deserted shore in sight crocs with teeth sharp at night silent as a thief I float like a kite. To settle upon question marks and pages holding a lesson to be learned in stages Hoping the sequention will avail the phases. Loneliness leaps from oars Solitude seeps into shores Man sleeps and he roars I creep on all fours. Because I am deep in shallow detours? Maybe so Maybe not. If I could swim into your mind and devour all the thoughts in kind I’d send them back wrapped in a bow and hand them to you under mistletoe But I can’t even read a thought let alone decide what I ought to do in order to get bought Afraid you’ll wring what I wrought around my neck and tow the whole including the bow from the bough of the tree that produced the sorry mistletoe. You see it is magic I seek a show of reincarnation to get rid of the bleak and startle the imagination to snow in July to light up the sky like you lit up my heart and made me feel smart if just for a moment I’d endure all torment to hear from your lips you like the jibe of my ship. I’d flip you a sail shoot you a quail cook you a pheasant because your touch is pleasant your taste is mesmeric your smile is panaceac and your loving euphoric In reality Behold! All the untold in its effervescence as you unfold to allow the copulance may I be so bold? Maybe so Maybe not.