having awakened
at sunup, sprawling gloriously alone
alongside the ashes of last night’s fire
on nameless beaches on far-flung isles
having gotten my bare feet up under me there
and stumbled first-thing into welcoming seas
how shall i now feel
waking here, in a bed,
in a house, in a town,
in the middle of a continent,
people everywhere,
the nearest ocean forever away?
here, where i must walk with measured steps
in shoes
on concrete, on carpet,
on the eggshells of knowing no one
and no one knowing me
how shall i feel?
for i have known the dear company
of whole hosts of friends
and i have had lovers
but i know full well
that this day will be filled
like all the other days these days
with cursory encounters with strangers,
and that i’ll drive this night’s hard highway
just me in my little metal car,
home to my landlocked and empty bed,
and that i shall feel
forsaken
this certainly captures the essences of dislocation and longing for different times and memories – of how one can be more comfortable and less alone in a wider space with less people around, than boxed in, with the constant sea of many …
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Landlocked… love it just for the misery it brings… there are good reasons to dream
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