Anastasia: Westward Current

I've run to the edge of
the map, looking for you.

I can see you
through the fog on the horizon
I can hear you
through a violent mob of seagulls.

I've watched you
running back and forth along the coast,
waiting for you to join
a western school of fish gulping oxygen at the bottom of the ocean
speaking in silent english of how they
long for the worms and waters of a western seaboard.

I watch and wait
and sink a hook into the ocean
hoping you'll come take my bait.