Sea Foam

What would it take to get that heart beating again?

Parian marble pumping blood 

through hardened skin. 

People pass, their mumbling a wall of gray fading 

into the background.

The roar of the water has come to a head. 

Your eyes look through me past 

bone and sinew, burning 

through marrow, deconstructing 

the fabric of my flesh.

But your gaze is the same for everyone and I am just 

one paramour out of millions. 

Please let me go. 

“Keep chiseling until I deem you beautiful.”

My flaws are apparent, 

a blur of uneven teeth, a soft body, and dark skin I prayed you 

could love. 

Your fractures are gorgeous. 

Vertebrate after vertebrate bending until they melt 

into the coast of Cyprus,

with dimples kissing 

your spine like craters adorning the moon. 

You were told to decide 

between war and fire and chose yourself. 

Born of rage and vengeance, 

this is not the first time your expression has cracked,

nor will it be the last. 

You gave birth to lust, terror, fear, and attraction,

harmony and charm exiting 

your womb. 

Mother of chaos and peace. 

But that was eons ago, before you called Caesar 

to heaven, before your flesh hardened 

along with your heart. 

There was a spirit on your lips the last time 

we kissed, and now I taste poltergeists each morning that I rise. 

Your poisoned wine tore down empires, temples rendered to ashes,

grazing the wounds of lovers

you’d scarred.

You helped me bleed out

a toxin that you’d administered. 

A treasure lost 

to the Aegean Sea for millennia, now a display piece.

A deity entombed in stone, locked

away in Paris. 

Holy is the girl that emerged from the ocean,

an intoxicated vagabond drunk

on affection. I am not willingly seduced, but you tower 

over me Lagerstroemia floribunda shifting in the sea breeze. 

A futile effort, I do not resist your enticement.

There are riptides forming between what 

could have been your open arms,

what should have been your open arms. 

To the fairest one, the hedonist, the virgin, the celestial goddess

formed from the burbling of the sea.

You are both the water in my lungs

and the breath between waves. 

My face wet with saltwater, lighthouses illuminate

our misconduct.

Why do you only love me in the dark? 

I could not have prepared for you.

Leaving should be easy

but no, I am trapped between you 

and a hard place.