La Mar

The little boat becomes as the waves,
The further and the further away.
It's not like a road, this sea;
Guided with a Tarmacadam barricade,
Routed in a certainty.
This is an embrace
As knees grasping a Colt,
But then, nothing like that at all;
Entirely at its mercy riding over...
The cold, magma birthplace of us all.