I am the restless ocean, you a tempest storm
churning our waters into a whirlwind of wants
plunging us into murky depths of desire
where we linger, and soon surrender
to that which our fates have conspired.

The ocean, the storm, water with no form,
when you taste salty sweat on glistening skin
as we continue to swirl into a luscious spin
spellbound with one another.


The flooding begins and we, now immersed
in this passionate play so well rehearsed.


All that remains is the dull ache of pain
in the aftermath of our amorous reign
which leaves our souls tainted and stained.


For, what is love but a permanent drowning
of the crowning jewel of alone
as we rise from the turbulent waters,
me, a pillar of crumbling salt
you, a crushing stone
pummeling me into sparkling dust
as we merge together into one.


©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg


3 thoughts on “Salt

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