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Come with me
down to the greengrey water
while the spirals and whirlpools of sand;
like the crests of my fingertips -
those whorls and wheels-
while Scylla and Charybdis made dry,
scour this place clean.

You never claimed to know
what you might find
when once you navigated your way home.
I never claimed to know less than everything:
but still my charms and sways
could not this isle keep safe from storm.

Here, on this shore
matted with the organic -
thick with death from the sea –
jellyfish arms tipped with mild poisons
and kelp arms slick with hints of thought
and our arms
so nearly entwined –
so nearly.

Ask me once,
what was the name of that day.
Ask me what those airstroked runes
spelled out in the seafoam
had to do
with our futures.

I’ll point to the mingled impressions
of our thighs
in this sandstroked shore.
like the prophecy of drunken sybils,
these glyphs of passion,
where wave after wave
crested over our entwined hands.

Ask me once,
and I will point
to where years of obligation and wisdom
speak like weedchoked tidelines,
these terrible tidings of where
the impassioned sea ends.

Ask me once,
and I will lift my voice,
like every windtossed seabird,
that, abandoned upon the brittle shore,
calls for the wind
to take her home.
Circe knew loss.

This probably needs some touching up, someday.
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AlienDonkey Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2007   Writer

this reminds me of greek myths, intertwined with nodern life. the intertwined arms are a poignant image.
keen Featured By Owner Aug 18, 2007   Writer
reminds me of pagan infinity swirls left by celts (?) in ireland.
pheniel Featured By Owner Jul 19, 2007
Greatly moving, love.
:heart: :heart: :heart:
frail Featured By Owner Jul 19, 2007  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
so nearly
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Submitted on
July 19, 2007
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