Your Enough

Not mine, anchored under sheets lapped over us,
wrinkled little but still not broken,
yet stiff enough to press the issue.

So few folds back then, our young skin glistening,
yours to be sliced a short time after we had set our course
on vast sea dreams, you fluttering wool and warmth,
hand gripped on the mast, mine holding to the wheel.

So I was set adrift, our ties cut by that termination.
I still see your nodding head that said we’d been mistaken,
untied lifelines, our knots undone,
drifting me past our starting point,
the thinning horizon losing its sunset glow,
as higher seas washed over me,
floating me beyond an ocean blue.