His childhood, long gone now pressed between the folds of
some ancient text. He conveys his condition looking out over the bough as the
cruel frigid sea twist reddens his pale cheeks. He is distressed by his
contrast desires, how can he both hate his mistress while longing for the
bounty of God’s bedewed creatures hidden within her cold blue bosom.
She, at
home remembering the very moment he, the watcher of her emotions departed.
Needing him to stay and defend the hearth. The spoilt stench of his avoidance
still adorned the air just beyond her tender nose. He would withdraw, as before
into nothingness, leaving her to fend the harshness alone. So, like the docile
and uncertain child longing for her mother’s reassuring hand she places her
soft foot upon the path. Calm within her warm soul of her wise choice.
The cold
wet storm brutally scrapes at her window frame. She knows he is unsecure and at
the clemency of the sea. Jealous of how she, the sea calls to her lover even
when his feet are dry and The fastened to her bedroom floorboards. She knows
that he could never truly belong to her. As she surveys the far away waves
tossing aside long lost, and soulless vessels. She secerns that he soon will
grace her entranceway again.
-Johnny V.
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