It was beautiful
The ocean,
All her cool,wet skin
Had you touched it,
Just once, you
Would have known
That it was not the blood of specters spent
In a lonely sea
But the breasts of a lovely woman heaving
Her skin cool and wet,
All the waves were to you as desert
You feared a field of bones
And missed her waiting;
You tasted the water and
Spat out salt.
YOU ARE READING
Small Silver Fish
PoetryA growing work of poetic exploration,this small volume explores life long struggles of a poet groping for evolution.
