Poem by Owen Connor

Art by Hadley-Rae Balmes

I met the beach that night alone 
Isolated and deranged 
When there!—you rose up from the sea 
You were Poseidon’s wife estranged 

I stumbled down into the sand 
Level with the seashore reeds 
You donned a corset of sea life 
And bore two eyes like sea glass beads 

You swayed in tandem with the waves 
Until the surf submerged your  thighs 
Moonbeams caressed your face and neck 
Refracting in your glassy eyes 

As time itself had stopped in awe 
The Sun and Moon each held their breath 
My mortal troubles fell away 
No need for life, no need for death 

I wept, much like a child would 
As the universe bent for you 
Through glossy eyes, I didn’t see 
That you were gently weeping too 

We were together on the shore 
Though you believed you were alone 
Whatever reason you were there 
Would drive me mad if I had known 

Perhaps that’s why I fell for you: 
The mysteries about it all 
Or maybe t’was your siren songs 
Your haunting oceanic calls 
And when your calls took on a form 
Just like some otherworldly prayer 
I tore my ears and gouged my eyes 
To forgo an eternal stare 

I’ll stumble blindly through the sand
Until my life gives way to sleep
The only image in my mind
Will be you, woman of the deep