Pisces

Without fences,
without alarms,
with my diopters on the moon
and the other on your becoming.

I’ve been walking longer,
you’re walking faster.
I reached this version of myself
a little earlier than you will.

I could warn you and steer the boat.
I could tell you where the storms live.
But love, the kind I carry,
knows when to loosen its grip.

So, I say, go.
Touch the fire.
Miss the rain.
Fall too fast.
Do what you must do.
Do what you have to experience.
I won’t interrupt your lessons
with my conclusions.

I won’t turn your mistakes
into my fears.
I will be here, quiet as water,
patient as age.

I might be forgetful,
but I do stay.
And if you choose to let me go,
I will return to deeper waters.