My friend and fellow poet Sean gave me this prompt: “How lovely the moon, the Goddess Diana is…”

Of My Lover The Sea

I would carry her burdens if she’d let me.
Rocky tidal waves already hold that title:
ancient lover to the sea, she moves in constants
only during shadows, night. I have no right to be jealous.
Polar opposites, we occasionally brush paths
and even then, she yearns for darkness.
She doesn’t see me, but I notice
the way she peaks out at him,
casting sidelong glances in soft beams of moonlight
striking his dark body with slivers of innocence.
Lately, I’ve been hearing their whispered affairs.
She thinks I will not notice,
being trapped in the sky
and suffering desires unrequited, but
even in my heated state, her return sends salted winds
and wet caresses in my direction. And he
takes her in vain–after quiet ravishings, he echos
calamity, chaos, before a tantalizing calm
seen in the deep blue green of unruffled sway.
Why she, hanging lovely in the sky,
would choose him, that embodied mass of wild temperaments,
is not lost on me. Stoic heat
crashes down on his sandy banks;
the only victim of my stare
being that of washed seaweed burning crisp upon the shore.
Rows of water retreat, then return, to lick away the heat.

–Billimarie
March 25th, 2011


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