Vintage 3: Sirena 5-0 / Dive 06′

To the sea they will go

Run their fingers along the coast

The waters mild

The stones are calm but sharp

A swim is what they want

So they speak of how the beach is

The ocean’s spray

cools long tanning bodies

They do not concur though

He explained “your radiance radiates

the beach with your beauty”

She, thinks him crazy

Till warmed sand grips them

They hold each other

to not fall over

“You’re burning red” he insisted

You’re wet yet dry?”

relayed his nerves pressed against her body

“What are you made?” he asked, interrupted

Sand congregates further up their legs

Then glass treks torsos

Up from chest onto face till

Everything became ebony glazed

 

 

Clarity of sky returned instantly by night

they, washing trauma in the water,

she, submerged then resurfaced

With a new tassel

A new edge to cut with

new smile and topless

She laughed, then splashed

She, the sea’s accomplice

Aqua blue with a green pokka-dotted fin

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