Wanderlust.

you're dipping your toes into inky oblivion
watching over your shoulders for the Past.
you find she isn't here today, and so,
you reluctantly
relax.

the darkest of waves are keeping you company
while you wait for your next Sign.
as if on cue, it dutifully arrives,
and you heave a beautiful
sigh.

the ship, it seems, is waiting for you,
and while you're a tad unsure,
the billowing sails tug at your heartstrings,
and you find yourself leaving the
shore.

there's just one problem, my dear friend;
you never washed off the ink.
And now, as you plan to leave your Past,
she follows you, hoping you'll
sink.


For Tomcat.