The First Encounter with Sea

Poetry, all women like Straight or even dyke Language has its spells they say So talk to hearts and they will fly away Love is what we beseech In acts, in gestures and in speech

-Faithinlove-

Like a first encounter with the sea is each encounter with Mary, filled with inquisitiveness and idiosyncrasy. Each time, she comes graceful in her walk approaching me like the first wave and I feel like an urging call to draw nearer to her and be submerged by her presence. I get closer and want to be closer till I feel wholly waterlogged in her. Like someone making her first encounter with the sea, I want to venture to the extreme, to the deep, but I fear and hang on to the whirling sand beneath my feat. I sense freedom and taste liberty before the infinity of her majestic beauty and I navigate amidst her magnificent traits that take me away to different exotic places, lands I have never known before, sensations I have never come across before. I open my arms and go in swimming; the cold water gets warmer, and warmness invade me.

As the waters whirl in their endless movement, feelings to me, they send seaweeds, desires to me, rushing to stick everywhere around my body like snakes. I fight to remove them desires; I throw them back in waters, but in vain as the waves of her lustful body bring them back. I look but at the sea; my gaze searches no horizon, or sun; her waves are new to me, new to someone at his first encounter with her majestic looks. I loose balance as I float here and there; no gravity it seems as bliss makes me hang above and feel weightless, meaningless… She smiles, a sweet breeze rises, she laughs, a wild strong wind of desire blows…

Waves mount; the waters whirl, and I feel like she is willing to gulp me down in her deep temptations; the currents of desires become sturdy; I turn my back; I do every effort to escape for I feel drowning in her, for I feel she wants to take me in to throw me later on the deserted beaches surrounding her, empty, cruel world. My feet ding to the agitated sands, which mingle with waters to hasten my end; I fall, from sea I drink salted water, from her lips I drink divine wine, I feel dizzy; I feel drunk, but I insist on surviving the desires.

As I reach the seashore, a last wave slaps my face to punish me for my stubbornness and resistance. I crawl; I creep for her tumultuous beauty took away my strength and power. I reach a safe place; I sit to rest a bit; I look at her; I look at the sea; the blow of the last wave is still aching; my skin is burning with pain; I extend my hand to reach a big mollusc shell that I draw near my ear; I hear the sea echo; I hear her voice: “Come back, Mary loves you”.

-Faithinlove-