Beacon in the surf
breaker of the restless
sea, a fruitless
perseverance, woman
in one piece, sculpted

fire from primal
moving the wind
which blows water
to the earth
and feeds

the crops that feed us
primal that feeds the fire
the tacking eye of light
that sometimes reflected
and fragmented, hidden

and missed in mist
is full of tears
for the ships
at her feet
broken

From primal

Even as he spilled over with confidence
While his tongue smoothly ice skated across the chalice of my pelvis
I was not fooled.
I could still feel his caged heart race and buck 
As he laid between the cradle of my hips.