for theresa

she wants to let
go of him, but
finds it hard to
push off from
the pier and set
sail and let
the wind take her
to where she needs
to be, which is
anywhere, but here.
and yet he holds
the rope, he won't
let her lift anchor.
he says he has
the map, that he
knows the way, he
knows the tide
of her, the rise
and fall of the sun
in her. he knows,
he says in a kind
sweet whisper how
to navigate the stars.
and as she stands
on deck with her bags
packed and stowed
away, she listens
to the sway of
the water beneath
her feet and stares
out across a velvet
sea. she knows
she needs to leave.