Piracy

A pirate ran off with my heart today,
stitched it to his billowing sleeve,
which was sweet, I suppose.
He pilfered my shirt too,
refusing to do his own laundry.

He stole the voice from the wind
to tell me he loved me,
I shut the windows and sealed them with wax,
but the trees still scratched,
limbs aching with longing.

He stole my dreams at night,
so I stayed up late with bills and taxes,
worrying into fitful sleep.

He tried taking my free time,
with half-hearted games
of virtual chess, whenever
he chanced across an internet connection.

He purloined my favourite mug,
saying he wanted to feel my lips against his
every morning with his coffee.
It was chipped anyway.

He made off with my friends as well,
but I don’t mind,
he left the cat.