She crossed herself at the beach,
tied black veil over her
face, these eyes shine, never questioning
the waves, comforting once.
Dips the toes half way then
escapes, this fair mermaid
of moan.

Her hands bare wear the marks
of stones which cast upon
unfaithful skin, innocent
the elders said yet
youth prevails, lust along
with strung fist upon
this fair widow to be.

So she stares out over the
heavens, her oceans, this sea
of doubt where water meets land and
she can still feel the
quiver inside, the embrace,
saliva on her neck.
Never will she let go of her
king of waters and she will yet again
return here.

So the last steps she took, so
far away, yearning for that
never ending path, the
truth, perhaps even the sand.

When either realize
perhaps one day, this wandering
youth will come to sense,
the legacy behind
the sands, the waters
and all those sins…