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Replying to a comment on:
Mermaid (Free verse) by lastobelus
In the morning, walking through bands
of sun coming through the clouds, on sand
walking towards the rocks with books
and coffee held, walking slow, with slow looks
at horizons and girls and circling birds,
with a quiet mind awaiting coalescent words --
past pigeons preening and prancing for crumbs
past the sunday preacher, past the bums
on their benches, who all know me by name,
past leyla dancing again for the same
god she danced for yesterday and past
the rock where I saw my mermaid last
dark against the pale sky silhouetted plain
as though she were only MY sky come to profane
I see her, again.
She pulls herself from water to rock, nails scribbling
breaking on the wetted rock, water dribbling
from salt-tortured hair, rough and tangled
and from under at me her dark eyes angled.
I see the sinews in her swarthy arms, tendons
under dark and oily skin ripple and she beckons
with her scrag-nailed hand
and her scales grate in the sand.
Dark scales, luminous and long shine
paler where the rock has scraped them, rhine
on the rock chafes her water belly, dries
in rings on the burnt sugar skin of her
human parts, lines the furrows on her
face -- in air and sun she ever cries,
in air too long she dies.
With strong arms she strains to hold the taut
points of her breasts from the harsh rock, fraught
with mute desire she keens
like hounds on a scent she leans
against our restraints.
The sea smell of her taints
the air, her cloaca opens and closes and she draws me
even in my revulsion she can cause me
to come to her
yearn for her
burn for her.
Her mouth opens, her pointed teeth glisten,
head tilted against the sea wind I listen
and she sings for me.
Off the rocks of the cliffs it rings over me
songs that aren't meant to be voiced
in open air.
Then she slithers,
slides off the rock, back to her lair and the day withers
and wanes --
What was not minutes but was hours, and she remains
in the scribbled words in broken-spined notebooks that lay around me
letting darkness surround me,
I walk home through the empty park --
Dark, dark, dark
and cruel her marque.
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