little sailboats

tiny white stains cover the dark blue ocean of your bed, little sailboats navigating archaic waves of love, lust, and mysterious confusion

each little spot a gasp of air, a kiss, a memory, hardened into your place of sleep,

if only until next sunday

i open my eyes to the sylvan knolls and ridges of your body breathing beneath me, your eyes closed but still they beckon me to stay swathed in your cocoon,


protecting me from whatever is falling from the new england sky that morning.

until my wings get restless, snapping open –

i kiss your cheek and fly away into the day

tonight i can help you sail those jersey cotton waves once again,

but tomorrow the winds will change and those tiny white stains will be left yours to ride with someone else

together you will discover new lands, unimagined territories

the tides carrying me to others who will help me understand

my unchartered  map, my unchartered self

you say you’ll be under bright lights with a sterile smell, i say i’ll be following the sun,

but maybe one day our compasses will realign once again and we will be wise enough to allow ourselves to be pulled by them,

like we were so many months before.

i’ll miss your fingers and the treasures i found at the bottom of (your eyes) the sea

i hope you still think of me even after next sunday,

when the tiny white bread crumb trail of our adventures is washed away.

{Kuntsrule stories are written by our readers. Submit your own story at: Kuntsrule Submission.}


One thought on “little sailboats

  1. Pingback: The Happy Friday Series: Spring Does Come To New England |

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