queer-with-a-pen

return to me, my love, again and again

one night, floating on a sea

of rum and ale

the captain looks up at the bard

from where he’s laying with his head

in the bards’ lap, nimble fingers in his hair

says, “i love you”

 

words fail the poet now

and nothing escapes but

a sound between a sob

and a laugh

 

but the captain seems to understand

just the same

and for this the bard is thankful

presses a chaste kiss to the corner

of the captains’ mouth

 

and the next day

hungover and gripped by

panic over a loss not yet happened

the bard constructs a balcony

around the entire top half

of his two story cabin

 

watching from warm, salty waters

the siren laughs, insists it’s a widow\'s walk

and the bard doesn’t give her the satisfaction

of an answer, both knowing she’s right

 

there is a walk-way around the lighthouse

but it’s not enough

it’s just……

not enough

 

the siren watches this all

wishes briefly for legs

in order to go to the bard

hold him in her arms

 

the captain is not there

to see this

how the bard works with

tears in his eyes

a deep cut appearing

on the palm of his hand

and a slash through one eyebrow

 

the bard cries over the hammer

and nails, the wooden boards

and wrought iron

 

he cries for the captain

loving him too much

to try and cage a thing so wild

that only the ocean can soothe

 

he cries for the sadness

in the sirens’ eyes

bright red hair fanning out around

her in the deep green waves

 

and when the captain

sails back into view

the widow’s walk is complete

 

and the bard waits

leaning against the railing

he made with his own two hands

bandage on palm and face

and he cries again

but this time out of relief