barthesian love
and if i shed
the skin you grew to love, and
that which felt like
what you know?
the very same shaped by life, and
by extension
by us. that which wrapped and filtered
our very structure.
decrepit ships, their rotten boards replaced,
stand tall, preserved,
in honor of their voyages of legend.
but what of their legend, when not a board -
all now new, all carefully and precisely weathered in replica -
has tasted the sea?
and, so, what of our voyage, or legend, or ship
when the bones of my vessel have been similarly replaced?
like an effigy to theseus' famous vessel,
i, too, stand - some kind of monument - and
so i, too, am subject to those questions
about my voyage, our legend;
about this skin that, like the boards or bones of ships of old,
life and time - too - weathers and sheds.