In the Edges

snikked back up deep in rocky crevice thirsty
i wait there for the changing sea…for she
has danced again away from me across
the wet sand brown and just becoming tan,

and finally white as all its moisture fades
again in fickle flight of waves gone running
out out away, entranced, infatuated
by soft moonlight and warden gravity,

eternity’s twin engine sirens singing.
i wait, desperate, grinding gritty dread
into the chalky powder of mere sadness
so i can mix it with my tears and drink,

and try to disappear it dust to dust…
but my thirst can’t be quenched here on the edge
of deserts where sunlicks lash my quick feet
and scorch my liquid heart, fall like whiplash

upon my salty soul to feed that thirst.
the desert creeps in sideways, snaking, slithering
thru the sands, across the wet seaweed,
chasing the sea as she cavorts and dances,

as she asunder runs, her lacey skirts
bounce briny, lift, swooning in moon-lorn longing,
her green eternal ever yearning quest.
the desert hisses its hot joy in radiant

baking waves of heat and takes another
sodden sandy vassel wet and cool
relief falls into sizzling fiery thrall.
i wait for the sea…pine for her cold droughts,

her rhythmic waves, relief washed over me
like heav’n’s promise…then i can wait no longer
as sun beats down with eager lusty limbs
on my rock, me within my crusty shell

I bake on edge…as if t’were damned in hell.

i peek slow, take a spattering face-full
of sand surfing on winds and sizzle sun,
and then i slide out skitter-quick and sideways
toward my ocean of such cool relief,

zigging towards bright sunlight dazzle-zagging
and zagging when the desert dapple-zigs,
in fits and starts i make my way cross edges
on edges…the edge…of sand…and sun…and…sea…

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i live in the edges…on the edges
and i am never sure if i am running
from or running to but does it matter?
still in edges, on edge, to and fro.

finally drawing close to briny blessings
once again i feel her liquid life
so cool in pulses, pounding sand and driving
cool water deep inside me once again

to baptize my dry well springs in her depths,
and there i feel her washings o’er me…
she recovers from her sweet enchantment
to the soft moon and moon-swung gravity

writ in circles large and sung in cycles
cross every edge…the sun, and sand, and me.
she runs her musky liquid fingers gentle
thru my hair and kisses my hot brow

with lips that speak of depths unspoken, hidden,
buried within her vast oceanic self,
and deep within her womb of seaweed life
her friendly waves wash warm and reassuring

but then her hunger wakes and eagerly
she reaches for my depths with her cold waters
that always live beneath that dancing surface
and i can feel her kisses and her yearning

as she my hot soul drinks like her lifeblood
that runs in waves and time right to the edge
of sun and sand and sea, and yes, of me.
i founder in her fathoms and her caverns

and pull away before i sink and drown
alas! i must away with me or perish
and ever be her hollow lifeless crown.
so desperate i slide, i bounce, i skitter

away and to the right, no to the left
until i find again my crevice rocky
and safe there, on the edge and yet bereft
of sun, or sand, or sea, i dwell in edges

yes, i live in the edges ever…edges

the singer said the first cut was the deepest,
well she was sadly falsely optimistic
for i am cut when she goes gallivanting
and cut again when she returns so thirsty

and overwhelming in her vast expanse
that stands against the sun, against the sand
and lives there with her edges pulling me
and pushing me too back across the sand

until the sun is threatened with my dance
and pushes me away with one hot glance.
under the sun, on sand, and kissed by sea
…i live in the edges…bound…and free


6 thoughts on “In the Edges

  1. Pingback: Because I heard your heart… | Charissa's Grace Notes

  2. Bravo! I saw you There, dancing between the edges.

    And this:

    “she runs her musky liquid fingers gentle
    thru my hair and kisses my hot brow
    with lips that speak of depths unspoken, hidden,
    buried in her oceanic self,
    and deep within her womb of seaweed life”

    *sigh*

    • The layers:
      yes, indeed you did, as you ran out…and ran back in…

      Layers:
      Deepest = Mama is sea
      Next deepest = Charissa is sea
      Next deepest = Jane is sea
      Next deepest = Scorpio Patrol is sea
      Shallowest = Life is sea, life is sun, life is sand, and me

      always so thrilled when you pull out those singing pieces

  3. Pingback: That Rock…There | Charissa’s Grace Notes | Charissa's Grace Notes

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