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All day we walked these strips of white sand
while the sun burned through one whispy cloud
after another.
You rubbed sunblock across the scars on my back gently,
though they no longer ache.
Once or twice you touched my lips softly,
your fingers feathered around my upturned face.
But now the sun is going down.
Only one thin, pink ribbon of light hangs over the gray waves
as they raise foamy heads and ripple watery fingers
over our toes.
Far beneath those dark waters I hear the Sirens calling.
You put your trembling hand in my hair as if you too
hear them;
and would persuade me to stay,
should my feet become fins,
my legs
a glittering, irridescent tail.

13 Aug 07

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I like this poem because it has a haunting sad quality.  
 — unknown

wispy, line 2
I like this but I suggest a few changes.

Lines 4-5

You rubbed sunblock on my back, gently, though the scars no longer ache.
or perhaps "as though the scars still ache."

Line 7 - feathering might be better there.


Your hand trembled in my hair, as if you heard them, too,
fearing they would persuade me to stay,

my feet becoming fins,
my legs an irridescent tail.

I like this a lot!!!  It's the kind of thing I like to write so of course, I love to read it, too.  Good job!
 — Isabelle5