You could set me ashore and off to the side,
To feed moss and fill up with black mud
Disremember our tenuous collaboration –
Lightning-lit sails over a brief dyad of souls

I suppose that is what I should do, finally,
You think to yourself

It is a very small boat we built, forever just barely afloat
You used epoxy to glue part of the transom
The wood shattered before the bond would break
I didn’t know if that was fair or not.

The whole hull is strong;  it will outlast me
In a following sea, in a storm of ice and jagged rock
I suspect your adjuncts of earth and air always advise you
To throw oil on disturbed water, and turn away and head in.

Yes, I squandered my life, spending recklessly
The glorious bright days of perfect wind, perfect sky,
Spent with anxiety and frustration, the only participant
Bailing and bailing before you let go the anchor.