Ice Breaking in the North Atlantic

The world often works a little like this – if you let something go, you give it permission to creep and expand beyond your control. The icebergs must laugh when they punch little holes into flimsy tin ships with the metal so cold that it shatters, fractures, disintegrates, slips down the darkness past places where fish won’t go. The ice is persistent – though first breaking it isn’t too tough, like I said – turn your back, it builds up and you’re stuck on a boat for the rest of your life holding hands with the handle of the one kitchen knife that is just sharp enough to do the job right. We break ice every night and it helps but the sight of the sun in the morning makes me realize that I miss you so much I am as undone as the ice melting off of the fortified front of the ship.

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~ by perfectionatrix on July 27, 2012.

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