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Submitted on
January 24, 2013
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26 (who?)

sometimes the mermaids will watch the sailorboys, and green ocean eyes will take in the powerful shoulders and the instinctive sense of balance, and sometimes one will fall in love. and sometimes this love will fill up her chest so much it hurts, and sometimes it will make her reckless--make her swim silently up to the sides of the boats and reach up (carefully, with just the barest sound of water droplets tumbling back into the depths) and rest her arms on the wood that's long since been worn smooth from salt and sun. and sometimes the sailorboy will turn, but he'll see nothing--but when he hauls in his net it will be brimming, straining at the seams, and he will look out over the ocean for a moment, all the way to the blank horizon, and sometimes he will wonder.

and it's easy to love the girls that swim up from the bottom of the ocean with nets knotted up in their teeth, nets full of minnows and tuna and dolphins--but it's easy to ignore the dolphins--and to untangle them gently from those sea-salt mouths and haul the dripping cords up and in; and it's easy to wonder where the seafoam eyes have gone after he's stowed everything and turned around and they've disappeared, but it's even easier to stop wondering, and easier still to leave, and easy to trade the dead wet fish for drink--and it's so easy to drink, and the walk down to the docks is easy, too--and so he sits at the very fringes of the ocean and stares out at the glistening breakers and wonders, for a moment, about those seagirls; but drinking is easy, so he drinks; and he forgets.

most times, she will miss him. and sometimes she will wonder. sometimes, she will get angry--tempestuously angry--and the empathetic ocean will roil and snarl, and in the morning when the fishermen go down to the docks they will see the fragile bodies of squid and jellyfish washed up among the rocks like so many withered leaves. but sometimes she will cry, and that's when the albatrosses mourn in the dead of night, and most times the sleeping village will close up its windows because it is the saddest sound they've ever heard.

most times, the mermaids fall in love with the sailorboys with the bluest eyes; the ones who are all ocean and no heart--who are deep and steady and comfortable but so, so cold underneath. they love those boys and they will wish they never did--wish they never had hearts to begin with--because like the ocean, these sailorboys will always choose the swiftest way to shore, no matter how the wind howls.
I don't know where this came from but my God did it want out. And it's not autobiographical, this time.

So. Sailorboy is the closest thing I have to a recurring character. This is not him. My sailorboy is an ass for sure, but not this much.

Is the repetition too much?
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InjuredGuardian Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2014
Well written. And well read.
An excellent piece.
disrhythmic Featured By Owner Jan 6, 2014
Thank you very much. :heart:
Kallios Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2013
So. Damn. Beautiful.

I went to Chincoteague Island for a week in summer, managed to fall in love with the ocean, and then had to leave and I swear I left pieces of my heart on the beach where the tide could wash over them and pour salt into the wound.

But bah, enough about my insignificant life. Boys are cruel and sometimes seas really do have hearts, but far too often the sailorboys will leave those hearts broken and weeping. So yes. I wholeheartedly agree with this entire piece, and wish that I could write like this because daaaaammmnnn I do not have the raw talent that you do.

There is not enough repetition, dear. Keep writing.
disrhythmic Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2013
Holy hell, I love you. Thank you so much.

Get back to that ocean. :heart:
lombregrise Featured By Owner Feb 10, 2013  Professional Writer
you're the surprise of the week here [link] - :rose:
disrhythmic Featured By Owner Feb 10, 2013
Thank you so much, love! :heart:
lombregrise Featured By Owner Feb 10, 2013  Professional Writer
flummo Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2013  Student Writer
This is just ahfajklgg (read: no proper words) and filled with tender yet terrible melancholy. This is beautiful, miss. And the last stanza is absolutely perfect.
disrhythmic Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2013
Oh gosh, thank you so much! :heart:
ColoringTheRain Featured By Owner Feb 6, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I've probably told you this before but your poems are some of the greatest things to read out loud. :) It just flows~
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