She is Sea
No goddess
is languid moans,
drooling shadows
in barren rust.
She is sea,
never sleeping,
but raw,
compelling in the honeyed moon.
Her gown of blue
is a symphony;
waxing when the day smears black,
waning as the pink sun rises.
She whispers—
a mist spraying
man’s thousand ships,
all enchanted by her tongue.
They could bleed
in her watery breast,
weeping for life,
only to ache in death.
Yet, man is swimming;
his feet licked by her waves,
swathed by her skin.
And she is worshiped.
Of the magnetic poems, this is my favorite.
As always, comment with your thoughts and reactions :D
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Poems
ПоэзияPoems I have written from years ago to now. For any of you looking for a love poem, you most likely will not find one here (unless I write one in the distant future because for some reason my brain short-circuited and thought I it would be a good id...
