Siren’s Call

Child of the ocean,
Sea Temptress,
the reefs I will run aground on
are not made of coral,
they’re made of people
they’re made of culture
they’re made of mores
they’re made of ideas
they’re made of connections
they’re made of doubts;
but I can make it to your grotto
if you burn the beacon of your lighthouse love,
even knowing
carnivorous reality will come
like Scylla,
and you’re just as willing to risk
our Charybdis.

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