The Fisherman’s wife

The fisherman’s wife

 

You brought your wife in

in a net

a dark treasure captured at sea

she had been tossing from wave to wave with abandon

so you took her home.

 

her nakedness tastes clear and briny

like licking mollusks

skin smooth sleek and cold

she still had seaweed  in her fleshy crevices

seashells for hair clips tangled

 

she had lived windswept

on some distant rocky outcrop in some far off bay

which you can still see in the background of her eyes

now she lies on your hearth rug

leaving a pool of seawater on your floor.

 

each night you take her moist body,

beautiful to behold

shining in the candlelight or

glowing by dying embers

she gazes into you

and out the other side

and beyond you to the window

which looks out on the sea.

 

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