Two reasons to sail for the Femme Marin

On sailing to Carthage
I had dreamed
of sailing to you
with pomodoro lips,
caged eyes
I feared that a local
Lolita might have
woven you into
her hair,
enchanted you
like a siren
or an island witch
until you climbed
into vineyard arms
imbibing solace,
memories crumbling like cliff rock.
I will bruise my lips
beyond red
into spilt iron,
nibble at belladonna
to design beauty for you,
sell all trinkets
making Tattoos
of my jewellery instead
to collect you.

Two reasons to sail for the Femme Marin

Voice 2:

I am sailing solo
From Capricorn to Cancer
My arms are string muscle
and my resolution igneous
Like the nautical instruments decorating my cabin conservatory so will my feelings
be shaped only physically
by air pressure, humidity,
gale force...
and yet the Tern's cry
catches me off guard,
billowing my heart

Portents:
a two headed fish
with albino scales.
A swilling memory of
You- the butcher-
Hacking pieces of our future away, filleting the moment
"You cannot do it alone"
you said.

Two reasons to sail for the Femme Marin

I am not alone,
I have a cloud of dolphins
and an albatross guide
from the Rime of the Ancient Mariner
I am he embodied again
which displeases you.

You would rather I sail
in Popsicle yachts
of the Riviera,
Showing my ankle
and decorating my lips
like Helen
But listen to me:
I was fed pomegranate seeds
in Hades
and cannot return to you,
now I have tasted their acrid sweetness.
Keep your Helens
and I will sail on
into the Gulf Stream
with a quiet heart