The Long and Short of It

It should have swallowed me –her hair
or the sea-water—, and I would have had
my fill of life or death, whichever men know.

And I remember her red lips,
the color of a thousand dead
horses soaking the strand.

I should have stained myself red,
and so lost the graces of her eyes.

And I remember the curves of this woman
which rivaled the swirling eddies
of oars as they crossed the water
in a war march.

If only their strokes had cut me
like the teeth of mermaids
or the stares of my brothers.

~~~~~