“as you were”

The riptide ended
in a diatribe
of guilt
when the clock
ticked over to a
new age.
“You can sail away,
but you will never
disappear.” She said,
with a shake of her head.
We bathe in salt
and it’s remarkable
now, that there was
ever anything
more to feel.
“If you feel nothing
then that’s all it takes.”
She smiled, though I knew
it was fake.
The bells are quiet here;
all that’s left is breeze.
And the seagulls that
pray all day for
a morsel:
some faint reason
for faith.