Reclaiming

Regret wraps round me like rue
clinging with excess, bitter.

This chokehold called remorse takes
away possibilities.

Offshore, a tiny sail sleek against
the twin horizon. Motionless. 

Are my words held, suspended, 
afloat, neither here nor there?

No, too late, they have flown,
bouyant beyond gravity.

Syllables trapped in atmosphere.
A mistake muddy as a toad pool.

Concentric rings endlessly spin
as the stone slips, plops and sinks.

I want to rip the reverie
of habit, grasp the ether. 

Call back the echoes thrumming
through space like a live chord.

Turn the ocean of sound into
muted waves, reverse voice, reclaim.

I want nothing more than to
dent the barriers of time.