He stirs, washed ashore.

beautiful, with eyes paler than hair

spun of sapphires, reminding the sailor

of maidens and lore.

 

He struggles,

man from the sea, casting glances

and spots the other, who knows his flesh

could grant immortality.

 

Stranded but not helpless,

the sea man is more sailor than he.

Twice his size, with claw and fin,

one swing of his tail

could end several men.

 

The sailor’s gaze, unbroken,

caught in his eyes

scales of emerald and sky,

over a form, curved soft

with plush lips and cheekbones high.

 

Approaching, with heart heavy,

the sailor raises his knife.

The man from the sea

watches

the end of his life.

 

The sailor kneels, with a sway,

drops his blade, with forlorn eyes.

Felt his lips, with a kiss

and watched him

swim away.