With no thoughts lofty enough
to break the surface tension
and no plans weighty enough
to drag the whole thing down,
We never sink nor soar.

The risk, the hurt is slight,
and so too is the reward.
But we stay safe
in a circling path.
Pretending that the coming crest
is the pinnacle of union.
Falling into the sinking trough
as if it were the depths of hell
when we never rise nor fall.

Bobbing beyond the breakers
because nothing stirs a motion-
no surging tides, no mounting waves-
Floating in duldrums constant,
we wait and we wish.



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