Fisherman’s Craft

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I reel myself in.

I check to see if I am properly arranged.

When done, I loosen my line

and cast my reflection

unto the cool waters.

I wash my hands in the minted liquid.

I watch my line and watch it twitch.

I have caught something.

Something between myself, our connection,

and you,

it was a moment of pure fidelity.

You come out of the darkness

and beam colors.

This line, our connection,

is as easy to split as a snap pea.

I should not trap you,

but I want something to showcase.

I reel you in and the line finds tautness.

The line seperates my flesh and

rosy fluid finds itself cupped within my hands.

Drops slowly roll down the line into the murky waters.

You get ever so close to it.

Tasting my pain, you break the line.

You swim swiftly into the darkness once more.

You leave me with no line, hook, hope, or thoughts.

I see my reflection show as the waters settle.

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