Have I kissed

the talons of despair?

Surely I would know;

I know at least, that I followed

the siren’s call and found

not paradise

but bone-littered shores.

How far

from home I must be.

How far

yet to go. Nothing to do, then,

but swim, knowing full well

that the carrion women wait for me,

that the twin rocks I mistook

for heaven’s gates

call out my name.

I wonder why

they want me so.

Perhaps, they too

are lonely.