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You send
your flimsy, fragile
paper boat to float
again–
another promise
drifting out to sea.

How carefully aligned
your every crease,
each fold, with colors
bold and bright enough
to fool me once
a thousand promises
ago.

Such delicate design–
all edges crisp, a vessel built
with such precision, built
to skirt, to skim the surface, built
to seem
more than it is.

Yet, to dissolve, it takes
only a brush, a drop
of rain, a ripple's touch,
a breath– to sink
straight to the bottom
of an ocean, stripped
of color.

Your weightless word
will never know
the wind–

a paper promise
crumbles
in the breeze.