Throw Me Back To Sea

Last night, I had a dream. I found myself entranced in previous connotations of intrigue and possession. Of all things in my life, it had to be the most deadly experience for my naivety in the art and war of love. Yet somehow, it ensnared me fully.

I lay there in silence, like olden times. Parting and reuniting with this toxic passion. It destroyed me, but its poison made me insatiable. We moved like fish below the rippling waves - gliding with divinity, the sunlight on our skin. I dreamt of nothing more than this; romance, passion, and above all, love.

But too soon, I found myself wriggling for freedom, no oxygen to fill my lungs, and the cold sting of a grapple, ripping at my flesh. All faded from view. All light went to nothingness. All joy went to despair. Reality sank in as though an anchor had been wrapped around my poor, pathetic little heart.

Oh, love. Your deception is too pure for the poet's soul to ingest. Free me from your tyranny, for I shall never feel the warmth of man until his bonds be broken, until he tears this grapple from my jaw and tosses me back to sea. Let me go. Let me feel the sun upon my skin. Let me dance below the rippling waves, gliding with divinity, and feel not the sting of love's deception, but the tenderness of his hands.