Seashells all around her waist
make sounds of the ocean,
oddly enough.
Being alone with the crystal blue
left her far from her virginal
Moss around her chest
and salt in her eyes,
her perceptions
on life divide.
Long flowing hair
turns green
under the sun.
Where was that lover
Long gone is the purpose
to thin, tanned legs.
Her hips are
sharp rocks
near the shoreline,
and she left herself
for a more humane
She sings at the water.
Bringing weather
too intense to see,
she dips her head
into the sea.
Body, so tender,
wrinkles in the untamed
sun beam.
Was she myth
or folklore?
Was she Venus
or Ariel?
Her eyes burn
and her tongue
gives but a whisper.
She sits at the shore
and, as the sun goes,
she does, too.


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