Frustrated siren
Image by movimente via Flickr

Sirens beckon me to the edge of lucidity.  Beyond cerulean and turquoise they call for me.  My blood is ice, the ocean – home. 

Words become poems and thoughts architecture that the sands at the bottom conform to fantastical shapes. The sisterhood aquatic recognizes my memories and sinuously undresses the rags I call principles.   

All that remains is the shimmering skin, reflecting the light that filters from the sky.


One thought on “Home

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