The whole of the ocean
is a fool's desire.
It teems with men and ships
hauling who knows what
to who knows where,
and, really,
who the hell cares?
Dreams are better drawn
from the little
local
bit of wet
at the tips of her fingers.
Once, a lady of advanced years
told me, dear,
every fox goes gray;
every beautiful face
must give its grace
away or lose it for nothing.
Look out at the water, honey.
Let's leave it,
it will still be there
should we care to come back.
For now, I only desire
the little
local
bit of wet
at the tip of your tongue--
a tide that rides from me
to you
to me again
sweeter than anything
any selkie
could pursue.
_____
for Susie's "Bits Of Inspiration" at Real Toads. I pursued a water theme.
photo: from a 1957 issue of Playboy, or so the source says.