You have the aesthetic of a heart attack-
The look of a lightning-stricken sourwood.
You have the posture of a wisteria vine,
Draped over a southward building in Pisa.
However crooked your jaw, I recognize the smile
And the look telling me “step onto the sand, cariño,”
A look I welcome while taking off my sandals,
Beholden to the whim of this charming woman.
Ah, the manifold creatures of the local ocean tide pool…
I’ve seen mother nature walk these waters before,
But in her heyday, humans never neared these anemones.
Octopuses, urchins, sea stars, crabs, and eels
Populate the shoreline stream:
The home to some of Gaia’s deadliest creatures.
Creatures such as the stonefishes I sing of:
“Fishes disguised as stones in the waterbed which hide
Massive venomous spines on their dorsal side,
Curious stone-passing aquatic life
Better left untouched if I fancy you my wife.”
Though, now I note your subtle distaste, fellow siren-
You dedicating your opinions to a narrative
That suggests a fish should not camouflage
And nearly instantly kill whomever steps on it.
“Understandable, I suppose.”
But the fault is my own
For visiting my bare feet upon this tide pool,
So home to myriad morose monsters
That would take my life should I plummet.
So take of me if you must, oh Gaia.
Fool my senses as I walk through your gardens, singing the tales of the stonefish.
I’ll tell everyone in the afterlife it was natural causes
And laugh it off for a joyous eternity
For to die by beauty is to have lived by it as well.