Water demands abandonment, it can feel through movement, the touch of a hand that penetrates it’s mercury waves which roll and sag and surge the infinite possibilities.
Making love to you is one, one wish, one drop where all bits count, where demand rolls with desire and feels with a force the waves know intimately.
In the waves off of Jamaica, I almost drowned. Almost succumbed to a force of picturesque bliss where the heart is given a different rhythm and all is gained and lost. Making love to you was one.
But somehow I slipped with the cunningness of a fish brushing off mercury scales that always leave a trail of blue green. But any fool knows, the water never asks and any fool knows it takes everything. Making love to you was another.
