A Nautical Room

Your sweet breath swells
into mine, fills a sail
softly undulating as if
the winds of the world
waned away. You blow

heavy on my back when
the sound of your
discomfort fills the room;
you slip into
my sheets and watch
them billow above us,
giving half-satisfying
direction towards a
horizon lost. So we

sail on, buck up,
tie our shoes and wait
while sea water slaps
against the hardwood floor
and the breathless coastal fog
hovers above our bed. So we

wait for the instant when
I can make you better, wait
for when ecstasy isn’t
a curse, wait for
the moment when you can
finally love me, wait
for the day
I raise mast by myself.