her pale face in the warm night
like medieval dark princess lips so bright
lure the sailor with her desperate charms
****** the heart with her eyes
the scents of the seven seas wash over me
all the traveling done to see a higher place to be
when it was right here infront of me
her thin pale lips pressed against mine
she whispers a plea
not to follow the wild things into the night
not to stand unfriended under the church of the skies
naked to the cold rain
to stay here in her warm arms
quickening under the spell of her devices
the chipped tiles cold
bucket of brine
sits by the door
has no shadow has no rhyme
it is salty for a dog of the sea
lick his haunches with thin lip grin
the tallyman count but the water rapping on the hull distracts
let us in the waves call to you
let us wash your spirit and teach you to float in the deep
the water is cool on your fevered brow
and since the words fled your pen
there is so little to do
but listen to the waves rapping on the hull
on the beaten weather burned white paint of the wood hull
its peeling and rot shows
the waves call out to you
let us in
we will teach you to ride the deep ocean rivers
teach you to see
the tallyman count one two three
the tallyman know good one from bad
toss you back to the sea
you no good
you go back to the god that made you
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
her pale face in the warm night
like medieval dark princess lips so bright
lure the sailor with her desperate charms
****** the heart with her eyes
the scents of the seven seas wash over me
all the traveling done to see a higher place to be
when it was right here infront of me
her thin pale lips pressed against mine
she whispers a plea
not to follow the wild things into the night
not to stand unfriended under the church of the skies
naked to the cold rain
to stay here in her warm arms
quickening under the spell of her devices
the chipped tiles cold
bucket of brine
sits by the door
has no shadow has no rhyme
it is salty for a dog of the sea
lick his haunches with thin lip grin
the tallyman count but the water rapping on the hull distracts
let us in the waves call to you
let us wash your spirit and teach you to float in the deep
the water is cool on your fevered brow
and since the words fled your pen
there is so little to do
but listen to the waves rapping on the hull
on the beaten weather burned white paint of the wood hull
its peeling and rot shows
the waves call out to you
let us in
we will teach you to ride the deep ocean rivers
teach you to see
the tallyman count one two three
the tallyman know good one from bad
toss you back to the sea
you no good
you go back to the god that made you
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