Poem: Islands (a free verse for Free!)

Giving way to the body’s bias,

the womb of the Earth, he slips in

with open hands.

Chest, shoulders and legs flex

against and in tune

with the predator,

the closest instinct

to submerge, surface and breathe.


Each their own island

he’s the breeze

open and stoic.

Then there’s sandy hair and an ice-cream smile


the warm rock, resolute

and rooted in the ocean without the will


the unmoved, but longing to change

through water and human touch

for beauty’s sake


all find flattering rhythms

as one pulse in relay

their blood beating on flesh and muscle

leaving the shark in a rapture of ravenous envy.

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