glass ceiling

I am out on this boat. The breeze is
gentle, the sky is blue. It should
be perfect but it is missing
what I need and want so
desperately. Your long blond curls. I miss
the static electricity between us,
the feeling of being young
together. I don’t want to be on
this water, If only I could be
holding your hand, walking
with you, talking with you, hearing
you giggle, breathing you
in.

I love how you wear red
and black.

You’re so far away, I should jump
out of this boat and find you, but I
don’t know know where you
are or how to find you.