Billowing,
Rising from coal and exotic salts,
The immediate intrigue
Of a new face;
An unblemished concentration that was
Approached with hesitance
Yet met with certainty.

What tends to be seen
As tarnished
Holds certain grandeur
To a widened eye.
Squinting,
One cannot see past the smudges
To view that which thrives on solidarity
And speaks in a clean, foreign
Tongue.

Sitting with a mermaid,
He lazily paints
Red pictures on my cheekbones,
The images a memento
Of what is now impossible.
Their bliss is tangible;
Winding and snaking,
Forming a chain
Of raven and navy.
I admire their mirth,
But like the brothers of Marley
I must bear the weight
Of the links.