January 24, 2011
Let the envy absorb into the wicked sailor's sunrise,
and the beauty be born from the sea.
Her tame and tender body flowing shyly through the waves,
that gentle, faintly tinted, tail in the foam.
This twilight glows in the big blue,
shells dazzled through her frame.
Honeysuckle seaweed dances from her head,
and mist progresses into the horizon from her scales.
The fish assure her corps be safe,
as they lure her into the choirs.
That bewitching body contorts us to serenity,
and fascinating thoughts fetch through our minds.
Aligned with heaven she swims through the bay,
looking to temp the nautical boys.
Her lips, cautiously majestic,
used from historic, submissive love.
Recoiled barnacles,
crave to wane her soft skin.
As they lure in scallops a plenty
Between the lighthouse lit mornings of 5 and 8,
the Sconset beach bay strikes with love.
Her taint eyesight aches
for beauty, for devotion.
For eternity, this, what she fights shy of.
Nantucket knows my Melanie,
sweet, angelic, Melanie.
My best-friend looking for me.
The verge of pure perfection,
though missing sweet affection,
from her lover hiding in the sea.

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