“When did you know you were lost?” he asked (so wise),
Since he’d been there and back, a long time yore
he’d gone too far astray, his sad demise
lay fossil-like: a starfish washed ashore.
His journey was circuitous, yet sure
of his intent, he forged beyond the seams,
To sear the fabric, cutting to the core
Deluded by the cloak of fleeting dreams.
His question hit her hard, or so it seemed,
She’d hidden far too well, her fatal flaws
well-masked, and cloaked by foolish, flighty schemes,
Now suddenly in view, beyond the gauze.
Their eyes locked hard, her answer soft, intoned:
“I didn’t! Help me find my long way home.”