queer-with-a-pen

captain of mine

the captain asks if you

think the moon misses him

as much as he misses the moon

and your stomach lurches

but not because of the crashing waves

 

must you be in competition with

something as great as la luna?

millions of miles away

when you are right here

the captain’s right hand man

 

is that really fair?

who would you ask

if not the captain

and the moon refuses to answer

while the sea only cries

out your name

 

there is something besides

the captain that is

begging you to return home

 

and you wonder if a

wolf loves the moon the

same way you could

love a man

 

torn between wanting that

coldness of the open ocean

on your skin

and craving the captain’s

mouth on your own

 

is that a selfish thing,

you want to ask,

willing and wanting to follow

the captain

your captain

across the oceans and the constellations?

 

so be it, then

you tell yourself

because you will remain

after the rum is gone

and the moon has fled

the night sky

 

you will remain

tethered to the captain

to your captain

and the promise he carries

of the open ocean

with the open sky above