The cold caress of pelagic eyes
Over my still dripping wounds,
Once enunciated rejection is futile.
What chance offered could be seized?
An organic cynosure,
A fearsome mermaid
Glazed in salt and sand with skin
The color of unshucked oysters.
–
My heart is a harbor
Into which ships stowaway
Silent as spoons.
Hands raw with distress
I mount the embankment,
A barb-wire smile
Bubbling up from the blue.
I am prepared to die,
To have my sinews
Picked clean and ingested.
mindlovemisery 