Feb 2018
She calls.
She waves at me.
Her French manicure frothing
Come she whispers.
Come with me to adventure.
Come with me to danger.
Eventually I’ll go.
Despite all the corpses littering her depths
I wait for my hair to be pulled in and tied.
My sails to be hoisted and set
And my nose to be pointed
Towards the next port.
She waves at me.
Her French manicure frothing
Come she whispers.
Come with me to adventure.
Come with me to danger.
Eventually I’ll go.
Despite all the corpses littering her depths
I wait for my hair to be pulled in and tied.
My sails to be hoisted and set
And my nose to be pointed
Towards the next port.
It’s a work in progress. I’ve just woken up. Also if the sea is feminine and a boat is feminine then is this poem about lesbian love?!
