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Those men knew mermaids.

Days and nights and days again,

Rocking and shifting,

The silence of no silence.

Necessary wind

That slaps and whips.

Sun turning skin

to leather,

rain splashing skin

that cannot absorb it.

Days and nights and days

of men too long at sea.

They remember skin of milk and spice,

Laughter that rolls and dips like waves,

A voice that brushes like the breeze,

Hips that undulate and carry him to glory.

There! Seaweed hair waving underwater,

Now, Flash! Emerald hips that move

the way she moves under you,

The way she will move when you make port.

The men think of home,

The way she pours the coffee,

The fresh smell of clean clothes.

Moonlight frames her face

as your hands press her yielding flesh.

And the mermaids came

For men too long at sea.

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