And the waves come.
The wave comes.
The wave pulls up its skirt
puckers its lips
drawing them in
leveling their dare
insatiable.
And the waves come.
The wave comes.
The wave bitch slaps
blackened hearts
panting for a gentler tap.
Tempting fools and bullies. As it
cracks facades, splits foundations sucking out their essence,
until their base, isolated harbors, scream no more.
And the waves come.
The wave comes.
The wave roars, devastating coastlines
tossing mettle at will. Striking and fierce
winking at the blue moon
as it tallies their cheek
on its terrible shores.
©Connie DeDona 11-02-12
