A loud crash and a gentle fold,

sunrise-phu-quoc-island-oceanI know of paradise:
a balmy breeze
that teases between my toes,
seawater tickling up my legs,
my calves freckled with white sand
and phantom hands,
in the form of purple tentacles,
sneak around my ankles,
drag me into the heart of the sea.


a loud crash and a gentle fold,
the lull  of the Ocean’s song
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
sickle-shaped hands curl daylong,
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
young girl’s never stay for too long,
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
blinded by treasure foretold,
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
why must they be so bold,
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
forever ruined by the promise of gold
a loud crash and a gentle fold…

blue waters, dark and hungry,
rush to touch and taste me,
crashing waves, loud and horrible
in the quiet hum of twilight.

a loud crash and a gentle fold,
the Ocean’s song is old
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
sickle-shaped hands curl and grow,
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
young girl’s never do what they are told,
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
blinded by treasure foretold,
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
why must they be so bold,
a loud crash and a gentle fold,
forever ruined by the promise of gold
a loud crash and a gentle fold…

I know of a hell:
lavender fingers, unearth
from a sea-foam smelling of sulfur
ruby red lips puckered into a sneer,
a red, angry slash
across the silver face of the moon.

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