Child of the Wind
Floating among currents
That form sails and lift the sea
To celebratory undulation.
In molding these watery tenders of mine,
The liquid surge of emotions rise,
Revealing your naked breast to me.
Yet, your love must roam and be
Separate from both sail and sea,
So only my words can provide
Life to love that would have died.
I hang limp off the hard bow,
And taste upon my tongue
The salty breeze as I feel you run.