A row of lights; little hands are clasped, still look lonely 'cause they're miles away from anyone. These damn reflections are plain deceitful; I only see you, but you see past to where the Exe waits and her brackish mouth swallows the sea.
The harbour lights, murmuring to me, "northwest by west", as you were typing through the night and these tiny arms are flexed. Ribbon swathes each phrase - inked in black or inked in red.
Box the compass, take your bearing down and follow the line.
It's only been four. You've only been gone four days now, but the scent of you has gone from my things. "Awake! Awake!" The waves break across the bow of my boat; singing songs. "You could've stayed landlocked and safe."