In the moments before sleep
i imagine a future me
this picture isn’t clear and
by no means certain
but there you stand
hair, wind blown
damp from the spray
leaning forward over the water
a figurehead sighting the way
in the distance behind us
a small strip of white
pushed away by fields of blue
reflecting the clouds above
my hands behind my head
i watch this statue
the lap against the hull
the sail billows
and you stare on
its all a dream you say
a private reverie
together alone
we coast on
the wind has died
i dont even know how to sail