Pierces and pricks the saltwater sea
off the colored coast of Amalfi,
where tourists flow like busy bees.
But tonight the breeze sings quietly
as I inch further and further in.
Pinches and pries from blackened skies
disguising water and whatever in it lies.
Past my open lips and embracing my eyes
it flows and fills me down to surmise.
How the water cold feels better than sin.
Pulls and pushes the current, leads
my willing self to a world I cannot see
where unknowns thrive and breathe
in ways I haven’t and never shall be
so long as wind whirls and time spins.
Perfect and pacific in the disguise
of Mediterranean shores, though I’d advise
you’d swim back before you realize
that you have not the strength to rise
from the selfish sea’s grasp within.