tied to the edges of our skinned costal archs
tripwire taut across two bodies just ain't enough
when shaky hands try to get a grip this time
on a cracked and slippery end we all know how this story begun
and how this story will end
entangled skeletons in this sinking ships' womb
carving names, oh so slow in each others calcium
when they wake for good this ships captains ghost
with the shattering sound of their snapping bones
storms and ship-high waves
we're pushing and pulling railings will fail
you tumble and fall and feel trapped
in a thousand unfamiliar hands
in this oceans saltwater hands
when passion... does not mean to obligate yourself to them
and will never mend or harm derelict hearts in this oceans arms
so better be armed with
something different
than a tin dagger in the sheath
on this sinking ships deck
an anchor, the suction, the rain
like glass on your skin, unrestrained
the bottom, a leak and the sea
stop staring, let go and you'll be free
... we'll be free
everybody will be free
everybody
don't try to save
a moment for too long
if someone you shared it with
already passed it on
so refill the glass
one last time
and raise it high
for a toast tonight
to what you've become
a drowning home
when you drift along
towards the coast
on to a shore
of drowned dreams and hopes
now drink up
and please move on
and don't pretend
you're already gone
