The Sea

She was a fickle mistress, hair spraying everywhere.
Cold hands and hard eyes.
She stared at me through the lens of foam and fuss.

Pillars, all done up with ancient ideas and ‘stuck to’ ideas of how the world works and where we are all in part of it.

She is powerful, dropping me to my knees, burrowing her heart in my head.
Beating me when I ask for beauty, and warming me when I ask for life.

Her beauty overwhelms me.  Im all drowned and watered up.