225/365: The Loneliness That Hunts Our Faith

Emma Lake

They say no man is an island,
but we are islands.

We are bound into separation
by borderlines of nerves through flesh
that cannot become other flesh.
We are islands.

There may be boats among us —
I watch you, I touch you,
and we ferry warmth between us —
but we are islands.

This is the loneliness
that hunts our faith
through nights and dark corners,
this is the loneliness
that makes us believe
in gods and blood bonds,
and we are islands.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com