To be honest
perhaps she does need love in her life,
in spite of all the brash denial.
She stands gazing wistfully out across the sea
as if willing it's liquid depths
to fill an empty heart
with something it has never known,
that only lovers can know.
Men are enigmas,
distorted mirrors that intrigue
with eyes full of the promise
of ecstasy's explosion -
whilst here is she on the verge of madness
from living so solitary a life
of pent-up frustration...
Or maybe she wasn't destined to love at all,
not that kind, anyway.
Yet there is an acute awareness
of something awakening deep inside her:
it's in the way the gulls
sing of secret pleasures;
the way they caress the air
with sensual wings;
in their erotic dance with the ocean waves;
how they playfully tease the earth;
and the way they flirt with the sun
she knows he is out there somewhere,
and that he is on a collision course with with her life.
It is inevitable.