He is an island unto himself,
a mass of potential solidified,
hardened to the core,

            and yet

within him stirs the strangest
longing to be found, to be
discovered for who he really is.

She is a mighty vessel, sails
unfurled, dancing with the wind,
fluid, open to the new,

            and yet

within her heart a block of ice
has wedged itself. Her ship turns
sharply from any unfamiliar shore.

                        ~

In waters where she used to sail
the freed man swims, his face alight
with bubbled joy and hope,

            and yet

within him, a gaseous realization:
he is killing himself by holding his breath
about what he has done.

She is a tropical breeze, relieved
to be who she wants to be: tied in love
and life to the free man, drowning,

            and yet

within her heart the fury of a storm
wails, tossing her into an unknown sea
alone and lost, reaching for a rope.

            ~  ~  ~

Accustomed to seeing through a storm,
she watches from the bow of her ship
once-beloved free man who cut her loose,

            and yet

senses from afar dwindling hope
in heart of his chosen companion.
Lowering her sails, she cuts her own rope

            and floats away, trusting
            she will be carried by
            a tropical wind revived
            that might blow her
            back to the nearest shore
            and with grace let her
            one day remember the stars
            reflecting in a sea of love.

The island had not desired his shores
to be littered by shipwreck, wanted nothing
of her fanciful sails, tainted and tattered,

            and yet

he understood harsh grains, so comfortable,
would be dislodged, some disintegrated,
by residue of a wild and dangerous sea.

            But he let her rest, believing
            she would be restored
            and set aright upon
            life’s ocean of mystery
            and with grace
            be allowed again
            to one day remember the stars
            reflecting in a sea of love.