the sun glints off his wet, dark hair,
the breeze pulls at his sun-bleached, torn shirt,
the kelp brushes his cold, bare toes,
the salt sticks in his still lashes,
the waves reach for his lifeless body,
I watch from behind my rock,
my alcove,
my arch,
waves push my body against barnacled surface,
his first mistake was being alone,
his second was listening to my song,
his last was our kiss,
holding him against my lips,
underneath the white foam,
I took his last breath,
I'll never love again.
(c) Cassie Mae Writings 2016