Overboard

As expected as death by drowning,
my cup of wine is empty again—
drained by the constant thirst
that haunts the well
where wisdom left me hiding
in the silvery dark
of awakening.

Things are falling apart all around me.
Handles disappear in my palm before the turning
and paint fades to chips and smudges.
Trees explode all around me in the forest
littering the snow with their bodies.
The faces of all beings crease and hair turns
to the color of March in New England.

You have panicked at the sight
of yet another empty bottle of desire.
I excuse you from the bliss
you thought you didn’t deserve
and you escape into the arms
of someone else’s dreaming.

She is the anchor you toss over the edge of sleep
each night afraid to look down
and find the sandy shallows are gone.
The links of the chain you carry
speed so fast over the wooden bow this time--
rattling away the possibility of redemption
like the clacking of dice
in a game of chance.

You will look up and find my eyes
with your eyes one last time,
my sweet friend,
before the metal
drags you hopeless
overboard.