this river, quite far from the ocean,
still flows to the ocean,
becomes the tide that will carry
your ship home -
to me.
this river water,
touching my bathing body,
collapsing my breath to pull
it away as my lungs hold beneath
its surface.
its skin, my skin.
this very water
will comprise the singular wave
that will bring the fore
of your vessel to shore.
that point where wood
and steel first touch land,
that press, a kiss -
your metal against my earth.
you will not be lost.
