I think of seawater
because of its briny tang,
because when,
by accident,
it trips into my mouth,
coats the inside of my cheeks
in a clear, chloride gloss.
I think of seawater
because of the way
it blooms along the shore,
dazzling white jewels
slinking up our toes,
our feet left with a glimmer,
slippery and clean.
I think of seawater
because your hair was soaked,
chestnut brown trickles
wriggling down your face
and I could smell the beach
in the pool of your neck,
fresh and transparent
at the crook of your lips.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:45 AM UTC
I think of seawater
because of its briny tang,
because when,
by accident,
it trips into my mouth,
coats the inside of my cheeks
in a clear, chloride gloss.
I think of seawater
because of the way
it blooms along the shore,
dazzling white jewels
slinking up our toes,
our feet left with a glimmer,
slippery and clean.
I think of seawater
because your hair was soaked,
chestnut brown trickles
wriggling down your face
and I could smell the beach
in the pool of your neck,
fresh and transparent
at the crook of your lips.
Written: September 2015.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time, not quite as good as I wanted it to be, but still satisfying. All feedback welcome as always. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP in the coming months.
Request permission to use this poem