A source of attraction, found
in the rocky archives of a seabed
off the Somers Isles amidst
volcanoes doused by the rise
of sea level. Sent compasses
spinning, whirled in a magnetic
pull, like one spins a bottle
to be kissed. Which place
tugs at the heart? Lost as one
in love and as prone to be led
astray into rocks that rip
a ship apart like a smashed
box of Valentine’s chocolates.
The dunce hat of a triangle,
a mystery to be solved could
be answered by this fairy dust,
magnetite sprinkled in stones,
no ballast is prepared to balance.