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…