I heard him before I saw him,
and I looked at my friend and said,
“I want one.”
I wanted to learn the song of his skin,
Instead, I asked him what it is to be a siren.
The stories of the lines he’s written
Of the women.
He lured in to the water
Could he still remember the count?
How many had drowned?
Could he still taste the salt.
The rhyming on this is just impeccable.
LikeLike