I had a man who sang me songs,
each strum on his guitar echoed
in my mind each night before I
slept in coral reefs, how he
believed my hair was a silver
moon melting within water.
He claimed there were mantles
carved in my image – I lead armadas
I’m here to teach you:
He wrote letters to another girl,
the same careful lines he sang to me,
She had two slender legs, and my fins
were no match for the freedom of wandering,
and he wandered with her ‘till the day
Men can’t help it.
So I will teach you how to steal them.
Like seashells on the shore, you
will pull him into deep ocean
trenches, chain him onto the sea-floor,
nothing but you and him will remain.
Oh, he will thrash, choke on salt,
will try to break free of your grasp
making the water swirl around you
until he succumbs, limp.
His skin will turn green like sea-weed,
sea-urchins will take refuge in his
Don’t make mistakes, my pretty princess.
Swing your hips like ocean waves, flowing.
Purse your red lips,
beckon him with your sea-green eyes,
lure him with your mysterious luster
and the glow of your flawless skin,
outstretch your neck and he’ll lean
in to give it a kiss –
then drown him.
You don’t need a voice,
you just need a body.
I would know – I have a garden of