The moon bows, and we watch it set, thinking it’s for us that it does its dance.
But we’re fools, lost in the romance, of a tide that widens with each breath.
I didn’t row out, to find the ocean floor, but that’s where I find myself now, in the undertow.
I’ve prayed once, and I pray again. I ask G-d to help and not condemn.
And I don’t mask myself in humbleness; in arrogance I bend my knees, betting that G-d only values honesty.
I didn’t start out, to find the ocean floor, but that’s where I am now, in the undertow.
You came to me years ago, a Phoenix without fire, bathed in desire, all I could admire.
I’ve loved each part of you, for moments that felt like ours. I kissed and caressed your body on a bed of red and white flowers.
I didn’t swim out, of your ocean’s floor, it’s where I felt, most at home.
I’ve cherished every laugh, and every smile, with my mind’s eye, I’ve extended every moment into a while.
But now I feel the floor drop beneath, feel the need to swim just to breathe, feel you no longer next to me, but a fleeting memory.
I didn’t row out, to find the ocean floor. You were never the mermaid I looked for. You were skin and flesh and the smell of love, that I carried beneath my tongue, while hoping G-d would bless us from above.