Sky grumbles

palms febrile

 

shudder,

 

shiver storm’s

fever.

 

I’ve washed up

on the cliff

 

of you:

 

body curves

dark yearnings.

 

You’re in love

with the love

 

of it;

 

agitated

like the wind

 

your eyes

seek salvation.

 

We ebb & flow

caught in the

 

cross current;

 

I’m unwilling

to drown,

 

but you

stretch out

 

on the wave’s

crest

 

strike out

for the deep

 

dark depths

 

content to

curl up

 

in the furl

of unseen

 

siren’s locket.