Seraphim

The girl on the side of the sea had lived there and lived there and lived there
since the ocean breath spat on rocks long ago buried
and the cliffs sheared off into parts unknown

The girl on the side of the sea had worked there and worked there
lacing waifish fingers around bitter sea stones
and laying them to rest in cairns and cages of careful design

The girl on the side of the sea had saved there
dragging feeble humans out of the waves
nursing back to light their empty eyes and faded lips

The girl on the side of the sea had loved with no restraints
falling for her patients hungrily as if never again would she
feel hold taste the living warmth of humans

She loved and loved and loved and each time – they left
leaving her with cold hands cold legs cold mouth
clawing at her own hair marrying bony knees to loving cliffside rocks

Not me

As she keened her throat raw and raked brittle nails on brittle stone

Not me

As she writhed towards her cave agonized under the weight of her pyrrhic survival

Not me

As she drank in living like sour wine with her lips anchored to the bottle