Mooring line

Your body rocks closer till it leans against the jetty with a gentle kiss
Of seawater and fenders. The tires jostle slightly from the startlingly
Fervent press into land. This tiny boat sighed contently – you have missed
This closeness. The mooring line is lassoed onto deck fittings, secured from the sea
With ropes we have painstakingly braided together till it is as thick as a wrist
From spider silk threads of time we have slowly added, skimped and saved to be

With each other, knees gently touching, quiet in our focus to make it last, built
To remain indestructible. As a long rope that binds two boats together,
Every wave and movement synchronised in surging and bowing, every tilt
Connecting minutest of creaks and trembles, Love must tether us heart
To heart and withstand the distance of boats leaving shore, oceans apart.

We are far enough for passing weather to gnaw at the mooring lines till the pulse
Of each other’s buoyant journeys are feeble, and each tremulous breath or private
Whispers ghost your lips like sea foam and barely leaves a trace in memory’s gulf
And voices are small and the water is cold and our tied boats no longer move in unison.

Stranded in amazing whirlpools and our own patch of lonely blue sea, we alone
Must taste the air for a hint of a message and feel the small tugs at the end of the
Mooring line to remind us that there is always a voyage home.