In the sanctity of your thighs, their opulent curves hewn by waters of our elders, I have discovered a thatched forgetfulness, a shore, a cay of fierce origins. Clicking crabs scamper in timid hoards cloaked by the spray. The architecture of shells reminds me of modern hope where the sun is up there in your face, lashing wild goats with whips of your ferocious smile. The barnacle's sequins are nabbed by the old lush gull.
Spotted stones are sinister and fine.
A pelican slants over me. Its mate hugs the limelit waves, secure as any dolphin. M. Brandler is a widely translated and published poet. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part in any form or in any medium without express written permission of Virtual Urth and contributors is prohibited.