the gift of your skin

you came from the twisting convulsive sea,
from waves shattering on rocks,

you appeared there on the desolate shore
sleek, skin glazed, eyes leaking sea, and loneliness

you shivered,
and shed your dark slick sea skin.

you left your fin folk, your home,
your fate for the longing of me.

on knees, body aching and stinging from a new world
that cut like sheets of broken stones,

you offered your skin to me.
i in ignorance, turned away,

scared you, with an indifferent heart,
bloodied you with silence.

you suffered beyond mortal pain,
beyond the agony of the loss of sea,
beyond the gift of your very skin.

you ponder, skin partially slipped on,
you waver in the maelstrom,

red hair streaming, eyes leaking,
wounds still oozing cruelty of tongues,
and selfishness of an ignorant heart.

the fin folk clutch at your feet
when the waves break upon you.

yet now, i understand that gift of skin
from my selkie,

now to late, as the sea takes her.
and i stand sea braking against me,

eyes leaking, wounds oozing,
aching in a world of sheets of broken stones,

the gale swallows my cry and plead for return,
and redemption.

the storm raged, waves broke on the rocks
the shore remains desolate.

Skin in hand

on the precipice of the sea
red hair twisted in rage and despair
my selkie weeps into the sea.

eyes devoid of spring,
only barren winter laying
over the irish green.

the fin folk call her name
singing of the comfort and release that the sea will give her,
and the escape that she desires.

spray stings her face,
whether of sea or tears, her eyes leak both
heart snapping, bloodless from leaking wounds.

skin in hand, tightly embraced, the storm rages.
and she sways in the gale, indecision and
skin clutched in hand,

longing to slip into it,
and back into the healing embrace of the sea
my selkie weeps.

my selkie

my selkie, on this
desolate tongue of
stone, twists
and weeps in the
storm.

her longing to
return to the
heaving tumult
of her beloved sea
draws her
weeping and frail,
to this desolate
purpose

she weeps the sting
of sea and storm
and trembles her despair,
aching for her stolen pelt
and the healing balm
of the sea.

the tempest behind
her green eyes,
rivals the gale,
lashing and stinging
her frail skin.
sorrowing for her
stolen life.

you came swimming

you came swimming up
out of the weeds,
out of the liquid dazes
and gray haze,
and the nets that hoped
to ensnare you
up through the green of
your eyes
as they whisper the
secrets of your flesh.

you came swimming
through the lilies, and
green pads , red hair frothing
like waves and squalls
in the ocean
naked and glistening
breasts bare and nipples
puckered,
you bask on the rocks
just to far from the
muddy dock,
on which I stand.

weeds shivering and minnows
darting throw the waters
at my feet,
I stood trapped and enthralled
statued as you combed and braided
your hair
eyes downcast intent and
absorbed by the nimble
work of fingers

dry mouth gaping
I hung in the instance
crucified in the moment
by your presents and
silver shimmer of air
on the tremble of the water.

startled and pinned and mounted
the moment frozen in me
in the amber of remembrance

and I longed and ached
and trembled knees
buckling , but lust
and hunger hardened a swirl of words
in a confusion that trapped
my tongue and stung my eyes.

enthralled, entangled
I sank beneath the
shivering water,
past the weeds and frothy
squalls of hair
past ripe breasts and
stiff nipples,
past white smooth
legs,
past the golden flecks of
your desire,
past the tangle of days
nimble fingers stitch
each moment into
the frozen liquid of
our lives
and that moment remains.