she

I think you still read this; if you do, I'm sorry for all the shit I threw your way (and down the stairs). I had a lot of shitty facets.

Peace.


in every way
she is like the ocean
her body moves
with slow sure strength
the smooth comfortable power
of thick, rolling, unstoppable waves
think of a fox, or a wolf
she is not large, or heavy
she is sinew, wire - smooth power
but mere mammals
will stop from time to time
she never does
her eyes are green
a smoked glass shade of emerald
floating on a blue-black tidal pool
of unknown depth
her hands are tiny and wise
they can creep into any crack
like water sliding under the earth
skilled with Allen wrenches
knots both nautical and rope
and butterfly knives
she has lobsters in her blood
to match
the skeletons in her closet
coastal born and desert bred
whether sand or sea
her inner ear never falters
just her inner balance
from time to time
the ocean has its tempests
moments of fleeting frantic anger
ferocious furious violent confusion
sailors know to take warning
in treacherous waters with hidden rocks
when she storms she cries with gale-force winds
not a mere scream
something more defiant
more Charlemagne than Cleopatra
and her whirlpool emeralds
alight with Greek fire
scientists don’t know the formula
for this substance that burns on water
only because they’ve never met her
but hurricanes and tsunamis
are temporary disturbances
on the surface of a thing
driven by seismic currents
miles deep
and wrapping around the globe
in her strength and resolve
there is something of that tide
always flowing within her
an unstoppable need
to keep moving
to live discover and be
to breathe
like rivers that must always run downhill
the ocean that is always moving
she heeds only the call
of sun and moon
cutting her own path through rock and earth
the ocean can wash away anything
castles continents hearts
given enough time
so she believes in love
one that she can wrap around the world
but not relationships
relationships mean partners
partners means equality
there is no match
for the ocean
this does not bother her
there is sex in her power
she claims sailors when she wants
they try to ride the ocean
but she comes quickly
and there you find her
screaming like a Siren
beckoning you to crash on her
her hips move like the tide
rolling unending
she capsizes men to ride above them
curving in her tidal power
she comes again
when you splash on her shores
you realize
that boats are at the ocean’s mercy
her nails grip
telling you what to do
the boat in the harbor
at high tide during the storm
is tied down, fastened, smashing into the dock
grinding securely in her ropes
this time
her teeth grip your shoulder
the jagged rocks on the shore
just below the surface
and this time
you can feel the ocean
rolling inside her
she slumps off like a spent wave
and sleeps heavily
the sailor wakes
to find that she has flowed on
there is no betrayal in this
though man has trouble with it
the ocean gives and it takes away
it will not heed your call
only that of the sun and the moon
flowing on, moving, breathing, living
it does because it can, because it must
some see this as flight
and think her a bird
but flight implies a running from something
and rivers may always run, sure
but she is one with the ocean
the sun burnt on her chest
it has nothing to do with the heights she takes
or the depths to which she stoops
the currents are always pushing
her on a path she does not know
perhaps it is the crushing pressure
of the ocean’s weight
bearing down upon her
a voice that says she has not done enough
that there is always more to discover
just beyond the horizon
the fish which can survive
the killing weight of the ocean
can not stand its surface
maybe she has the sense
that the same sun which calls her
is forever out of her reach
beyond the surface of the sky
maybe she is always moving
because something is always missing
maybe
sailors may travel in search of something
she may move because motion gives meaning
she may move because it’s her nature
she may move because she is nature
and if there is a reason
it is beyond our grasp
like crystal waters off tropical islands
she is beautifull
like the tropical storms they birth without warning
she seems treacherous
like frigid polar waters
she denies those who approach
like whitewater
her mind froths and churns
comfortable in the truth
that time is all she ever needs
to erode the problems which lie before her
as she heeds the call of sun and moon
flowing going living breathing
encompassing everything
and searching for what may lie beyond the horizon
the ocean never rests
and it never ends
so whatever ships may ride its waters
whatever spills may stain its surface
whatever storms may come
it is mostly calm and moving
whatever comes she pushes on
like waves