her eyes roll out from underneath us
and drop
to the floor, shattering porcelain.
pouring out in an instant of sudden recklessness,
comes the ocean of assassin coastlines.
and on it waves a cautious flag,
an origami ship made of all our
past poems.
each wall of water sends
our complacently natant vessel
tossing and turning.

and we constantly wake each other up to help re-hoist our flag
and to steady us in this forever churning maelstrom.

and i promise to wake up,
to catch your eyes before they crack
forever leaving our sea-legs intact.
this one is for you.
Natant sent me running for a dictionary.
This pretty much goes right over my head.
I think I'm only getting about 1/2 of what is actually going on right now.
I'll try to read this again when I'm rested.
Promises meant a lot back then.