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The Lonely Mermaid

There are nights and days
where thoughts are like waves
a lonely surf thrashing
on to a windswept beach.
Pale gold stained shimmers
like left over glasses filled with beer
the wind blows hollow my dear.

Your mind thumping into a crescendo
a fever pulsing in your veins;
the time we caught the wave
sluicing through the water
so clean and sharp;
you were a swordfish
then a pirate with a cutlass
as I adrift, floating, tendrils
trailing out behind, light flickering
and a cruel slice from a rock
leaving a burnished smoke with
the taste of rust in my throat.

I saw only you
distant, a silhouette
the sun behind your back
beckoning then turning
I couldn't call
my fingers were stars
made of coral and gold
long limbs just mere fronds
translucent, I faded
until all was dusk
with a memory of gold
watching the sun dip
lost souls slip and slide
as all those nights and days
etched a chord in
the lonely mermaid's song.

Poetry by Elle