Tidal - I

As she seals up the envelope,
Her tongue avoiding the bitter cut,
Of the fastening strip, Her upper lip,
Trembling with the thought,
That once Her words are sent,
Unimportant in that brown paper parcel,
Her breath the glue,
Closing the gap like cool calm water,
Will vanish through and through,
As if the ocean had caught Her,
And sailed Her away to a place anew.

But in that ship, the creaking wood,
The crumbling floorboards,
The faded grey washes Her thoughts away,
But she still pretends they last,
Her care brushes over back into the past,
As the damp droplets of what was lost
Reign their way back into Her life,
And she walks in the wind on the deck,
Thinking she's putting out Her neck,
When she's really putting down Her heart.

She fears, constantly, a state of wreck,
Where every inflection will lead to
An almost glossing over of rupture,
The holes hidden in between
What's half and what's hole,
As she reads to herself,
A story she once thought of,
But let drown in the wind.

The memory, detached
As she hopes it will disembark,
Leave at a stopping point,
Never to return. The speech anointed,
The meaning patched, and
Now the puzzle is gaining to many pieces,
As the image itself,
It's complexity increases.