summer_jackel

Her minions came by nightfall, when the tide was high
and it was almost too late:
I’d not have let you die, the waves whispered in her voice
as gulls tore skin from small unmoving feet
and sculpins bore away her lovely bones.

I could have warned of his rejection.
If they understand, it is so often too late---
So did he see the wildness in your seal-dark eye
that did not blink enough, not used to blinking
and flashed fish-silver?
You would have moved too quickly still, and stumbled
So let me guess, he was afraid, not knowing why
and in his grasp, that fear outdid attraction, when he had you
in his land-rough hands.

Later, my pet, the ones ashore may tell their garbled story:
The unfortunate mermaid and the boy
and how our young must give too quickly, before understanding has
time to come;
how subtle value is, how hard to judge---
How sharp the price of leading with our hearts,
and why we must regardless, my little one,
my dearest one,
my priceless rag-finned jewel.

Abjure these rough magics? And why, my finest pet?
I would never be so foolish, to throw away
a precious thing, for I know
of its importance. I have learned.
And I see you also, you have learned, my dear

The shadow in your eyes, fish-quick:
Oh best beloved, I will treasure you
cherish your torn fins and broken voice
And the touch you give now, knowing what it means---
For your scars have beauty
An old shark’s grace at last,
too big and toothy to be taken easily
slicing fathoms under the beautiful dark.