It’s early morning on the day of departure.
Leaving this island again,
a kind of exile,
this home without you.
Though you are there
the core is bare
beneath a lush surface.
In your face a familiarity
a place time released sand in,
if you were once a traveling companion,
I now go alone to get closer to you.
Closure from you?
Like paddling through inertia,
thoughts sea swept into the distance.
Distance, something that always did us good,
limitless author of options for
those too individualistic
to stick to one another for long.
So we remain enamored
by the solitary journey
that hammers its adversity
into this domesticity
like the common belief
that we’re somehow unique
rather than entwined.
Seems the truth is defined by both
and neither of us is truly in control.
So we journey on alone
and wear the changes proudly
as if it is the only fabric that endures.
You’ve helped me to embrace it,
accept it, reject it, rail against it
and go solo into the neons and night skies
that cross a vast ocean
to land me on a notion
that this city we built was only a prelude
to all this drifting further west.
It’s all one circle in the begin again.
Now here at the cliff’s precipice
With a swift throw
to feed fire to the wind,
to go with illuminated wings
into wherever its whim
may bring me next.