In this sea of turpentine
stroaking my way to an island,
an island desolate and mysterious,
an amber wave breaks over my back
crystalized with salt.
Taken under by this nautical shadow
the water is a black of the darkest inks.
Banshees scream across the current
jumping into the sea caves,
whose mouths wail "rescue me!"
Grasping sand, slipping through my hands like time
the kelp weaves a song
intwined on my limbs.
Kneeling on oysters the pearly hope fades
when the mocking lighthouse won't guide the way.
Stumbling sea legs collapse
the land burns like a spice on raw flesh.
I scream with a barnacled tongue "wait for me"
as a hopeless S.O.S. is buried at sea.


A friend of mine is a poet and shared this with me tonight. Just felt like I should share.