The Diver

[miyako73]

The Diver



The May moon calms the tired waves;
I walk towards the edge of the shore,
Bury my feet in the night-dewed sand,
Curl my toes among the shying weeds.

The sweep of the breeze disrobes me,
Leaving the marks of grabs and grips;
I give my tickles to the unknown stars
Waiting in the idle corners of the dark.

My hands reach many warm directions,
My wet arms embrace the perfumed air;
I search for the kisses of the quiet lips;
The strength of my firming torso is joy.

I see the shadows of the full moon,
The spectacle of the sleepless stars,
The welcoming blanket of the night
With my keen skin and closed eyes.

My measured steps do not hesitate,
My curves bend to still expectations,
My stubborn limbs grapple and grope;
I am ready to spring, jump, and dive.

Into the temperate depth of the sea,
I free my body and save my breaths,
I harvest the fruits—ripe and smooth,
I hoard the flesh—beating and edible.




Miyako

(c) 1/31/2014

[twoheadedboy]

I really like this poem. It made me feel the night that you were describing as I've sat outside at night by the water quite frequently. But not as much as I'd like to lately. The stanza with "my hands reach many warm directions" is my favorite. And actually that line is my favorite. But I do sense this is a bittersweet poem, about someone killing themselves? Am I wrong? Either way I loved it for the way it made me feel even if I didn't nessesarily understand the ending.

[miyako73]

Thanks for reading. This is about a different sea of ripe fruits and beating flesh.