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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2308829
a sirens desperation
You have to dive into me to know me.
I don’t care if you haven’t the skill
I’ll topple over your boat you’ve lain countless times in
With my forceful wave I’ll guide you.
Ripples entwine with your pulsing flesh,
As I drown your goosebumps.

You’ll stroke my hair that cascades with liquid grace
Your fingers will tangle, but my droplets will cleanse you.
You’ll wash my hair with your spit,
and I’ll stroke your back with my nails.

Yet with each roar, a choir of sirens,
and seashell violinists resonate our hearts—Hearts laden with salt and sea fatigue.

Your lungs will soon over thirst and I’ll stretch no longer
No longer will I fog your lighthouse to appease my loneliness,
You’re misting breath that escapes no more
Leaves my only company, the night sky, void of your kiss.
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