Boundary.

I am a blurry thing.
Somehow the wind fell out of my sails,
Or the keel dropped right out the bottom.

I’m not drifting this time
On some inconstant breeze,
Rather taking the hand of any direction that will have me.

Deck wide open, belly-up to the aching sun
But every door is still shut tight.

Every hatch battened and not a soul about-
I bare my broken teeth to an uncaring sky
A half-hearted snarl plastered over my bow.
Heave-ho among the waves breaking over me.

Have to find a way, again.
Have to feel my feet on the ground,
Or at least gather the pieces of my scattered shell.

This wind that blows right through me
It rattles my bones clean.