Goodbye Lover

My old heart is deep and deaf to reason That’s why I like him For there is no poetry in reason And without poetry there is no me. But he does have a habit of setting off towards Places on his map that we, His passengers know We will never reach. But no matter the storms Or the advice from the wise On he sails Against the winds and the currents. Once he pointed towards the horizon And from his deck we could see it too, It was like a poem adrift upon the impossible, A portrait beyond our current gifts to reach. Within our cabin we can still see it now as evanescence and all of its silence pulls us forever out to sea.