Reenactment

The waters receded and I saw you in the middle of the Ocean, standing there like that Botticelli painting, the Birth of Venus. Ahhh, my Aphrodite I saw you there, your body like that of black gold and so smooth. You glistened in the summer sun and I could of sworn I was dreaming of a prophecy. There you stood, on a seashell just like the painting. Your hair frizzy from the Ocean waters and you weren’t shy of your body. I could smell the salt from the Ocean floor off your skin. And you looked at me. Stared through my essence as if you’ve never seen a man so possessed by words before. And I stared at you, reading the alignment of your chakras and your spiritual balance because I’ve never seen a woman so, so divine. There you stood, in the middle of parted waters in all your glory. Like you were birthed from the Ocean herself. Tell me, are you a gift from depths of the Sea? Miraculous beauty, a conundrum likes songs stuck in conk shells, I think I’ve seen it all. And when you walked through the sand, my body jolted from the fact that you were real. Each step forward, my feet stepped to match your pace. And I met you on dry land. In a beach where no else else called home. I saw you emerge from the Ocean and now we stand face to face. Your eyes glimmer like jellyfish and your hair the color of coral reef. You didn’t know my language, cause you spoke in lullabies. Like siren songs. But the Ocean gave you words like it gave you life. Here I was, writing on the beach and I find myself in the reenactment of a Birth of Venus.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s