Maiden

I have awakened with clarity.
She's gone again - a ship in the fog; quietly enveloped
in the night mists, she carries low her cargo on the surf
while the waves sunder against her hull, crying out for their maiden.
She is a pirate's bounty in waiting,

a schooner setting out to lose herself at sea.
She will be shipwrecked, she will go down fighting; and I will find her,
moored on the beach of my mothers, and I will stitch those tattered sails,
putting nails to wood and sweat to brow. I will bring a sea-worthy smile
to her lips with the strength of my arm.

Yet for now, her noiseless swish of hips takes the tide
and leaves the strong scent of lovers to
linger in the bedsheets.