Amid Her Waves

Unknown photographer
Unknown photographer

The length of her back
a wild symphony of waves
into one another clashing,
frothing white and lashing
salt in endless sprays,
weaving the air into poems fraught
with soft melting hymns,
each in midair curving
into a soft burning flame
then weeping, in my palms,
on my aching fingertips
the unbearable desire
to course through her waves,
become the sailor whose ship
plunges ever deeper into her mist,
become the red sun whose lips
shiver with a boundless thirst
to imbibe her frothing wine
and be drunk, drunk, drunk
on this softest of all cruelties.

5 thoughts on “Amid Her Waves

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