april 14. my island

no man is an island,
sure, okay,
but i keep swimming
back to the same floating
piece of land;
it moves away from me
and towards me
and away again,
but i never lose it
in my sights;
and no matter how hard i kick
or how long i lie there
and stare at the sun
and wonder if i'll always
just be lost at sea;
i know that forever
you will be my island,
my compass,
my home.