Sustenance

If
Blonde braids
Could stretch out to the ocean
Her hair
Would rescue a thousand
Wayfaring men.
Her Seirenes smile,
A beacon of home,
Return restive hearts
From the yawning water they tread.
Return them to the sun drenched
Skin of her breast.
Sailing around the nape of her neck
Cape of Good Hope
My hand,
Metal made blush from
Green eyes,
Would come to rest
On the shore
Of her
Collarbone
Where heart’s pulse,
Though Tempest wrung,
Dissolves bone,
Buckles knee,
Sends
Waves
Through veins,
To anchor
The danger
Hidden
Underneath the ink
In my spine.