Signal

These almosts are killing me—two ships passing in the night,

Longfellow I think, it sits on a high shelf with my great grandfather’s name pencilled in

and his son built ships on the dock of the bay,

Redding I know, so perhaps he experienced the same.

There is no safe way to meet in the middle.

Are you seeing the debris I keep flinging your way? just spicks and specks of myself,

Bee Gees I note, floating idly by. a like, a love, a message, a gif, a reaction.

I’m scared no one will stop me and I’ll give too much and be stuck out here alone.

What does your face look like when you see me?

Track my coordinates out of the darkness and storm,

Longfellow I repeat, I’m heading to our home.