she saw Her once in a dream,
in the borderline of weakness,
where the boat sway from rhum and sea,
her sight loosened in reverie -
the creature wore foam like a veil,
bending the ocean as a dress,
risen to legends from the depth,
the pirate bowed at the silhouette.
« dearest i'm sorry,
have we met? »
Muireann has seen pirates before.
She collects rotten ones in hills,
from the highest note She could sing.
most were fighting like waves to be freed from the shore,
crashing over Her place, drowning in melodies.
so She reached for Her voice, looking at the stranger,
lovely.
She could drag her, let her dagger,
tracing the line of Her neck.
She could charm her, would she stabb Her,
if Her voice begins to break ?
but oh to linger that thread,
between a sailor and a killer,
an unmoored boat is known danger,
and lone at the moon she whispered,
« drown me to the swift sea, see your gaze softens,
hold me till my lungs burn filled with water,
and your love, and my curse which ties me to heavens,
all of that, please at once, sweetest saline slaughter. »
the siren hushed, wishing no corpse, leaned for a name,
the lightest of blush, an unarmed soldier. the tide arisen,
retired. « hold your lust to my heart,
if you wish for my love on you, we'll make of the ocean a hearth »
