Hydrophilia
Shores caress
through weathered reefs,
as foams embrace
the soles of dwellers;
Rays may pierce, though balanced by breeze;
Now, I know
why souls loathe leaving.
Nothingness seen
through murmurs in the air;
Fowls chant caws
before kissing the waves;
Pick the carapace
that hermits left,
and listen to the carols
of alto waves.
The subtle bite of brine on lips
invites one to perform
a solo French kiss.
The balm of the palms and coconut leaves
enchants beings to succumb
in hypnosis.
As the floor stoops nearer
the heart of the earth,
blue transitions from cerulean to cobalt.
Through gossamer film, a menagerie performs
enthralling victims
to plunge the deep.
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