atlantic brotherhood.
something I wrote about a close friendship of mine back in those scattered teenage years. In the summer we used to sit out on this dock by my house and have these elongated conversations about certain aspects of life, why we love the atlantic, and why our romantic endeavours never seemed to work out. I guess this was written when I realized that we weren’t nearly as close as we once were, and how I missed that commradery. So just a reflection on how much I truly appreciated the bond at the time.
the dissonance
of several thousand miles
you own your corner
I own mine
we stake out our boundaries
live inside our walls
built with stacks of individual intricacies
our lives no longer intertwined.
flocks of birds
point north cutting through
the east coast’s
grey, march skies
reminds me the clock
is five minutes till summer
and my mind puts on
its southeast, marsh guise.
cracks in the wood
marked the lines
in the palms
of fortunes we knew
would break our hearts.
but the Atlantic could carry
that weight on our backs
and where black skies
meet black ocean
our minds will meet again.
took turns playing captain
mutiny not our concern
egalitarian commitment
to right ourselves onward.
a little over a decade
and a half of experience each
but, oh my brother,
how we were so tired.
We were Romeo’s
bastard descendents
foolishly crippled by living with
too much to give.
but even at the corners
of opposite ends
I’m convinced there’s a parallel
in which we both live.
