Sonnet To My Only

You slit the throat of your very best man;

Threw him to the eels, for the gulls above.

Slow he’ll drift until he kisses the sand,

My Captain, be sorry, be hopeful, my love.

Everything is wrong in the flesh-flecked bay

On the ship that breathes water and careens.

Crimson fog, howling seals, hull made of clay!

My Captain, be safe now, be careful, my queen.

The skies by now are too grey for changing,

Too sick with sleet to salvage our goodbyes.

Now I lie, yearning for my burning spring,

And still sounding swept, with my drowning eyes.

I’ve no lips, wish; no lighthouse at the end,

My Captain, how could you, sweet sinner, my friend.