Cold Feet
There are days into the sea I step,
Ever mindful of its depth.
Against my shins the froth enchants,
til intrigue tugs me to advance.
While writhing weeds like serpents’ snare
climb in deceit my skin--yet fair--
Rarely do I tread chest high
and never has she scaled my eyes.
Ever mindful, submissive sigh
Most of the time my feet stay dry.
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