I breathe you in like water
You rush through me and out of me:
a tickle at my ear.
I hum a tune that is faint and purple
You barely notice that you notice me.
You will try to ignore it,
fight to push it out of your mind,
but you won’t stop listening.
I sing honey liquid notes
you’ll hear whatever you want to hear
You will find yourself
ever closer to me.
the perfumed air around me:
Sweet lotus blossom
salty ocean breeze
You will find bliss,
you will lose yourself,
and I will take you there.
If you come closer,
I will breathe you in like water and
We will rush through me,
no more pain.
The moment before a siren consummates her kill
Is the most sublime experience known to mankind
Submersion is only the beginning
Her eyes—a sunlight glint reflected on cresting waves
Her embrace—a warm Caribbean current, enrapt
Her kiss—the kind that extracts melodies from the depths of sunken souls
Her voice—a note of Beauty unending; a sweetest sadness; forgotten pirate songs
This ultimate disaster instantly dissolves into pearlescent glow
No suffering exists plunging into disembodied scintillation
The terror is so fleeting that they never know what’s happened
Pulled into the deep a blissful being
Lost to the world
The Life of a Siren
The siren is born with a song in her heart; it is as fundamental to her being as the very water she breathes. She is not a predator, but she is doomed to enchant. She sings her song because that is her purpose, her very existence. She is doomed to drown the enchanted. She may be the most splendid monster, but we should not judge her murderous enticements. After all, we do not judge the black widow for entangling and consuming her unfortunate partner… her actions are in-built and inevitable. And, like the black widow, the siren is doomed to loneliness.
Every sailor she’s captured should have known that oceans are vast and unforgiving. The sailor is advised not to listen to siren song, but he is helpless to hear. Every sailor, being human, has been endowed with sensory capacities: humans are born punctured with orifices, utterly susceptible to the penetration of loveliness. It is unavoidable that they will be victims of flavorful aroma, tuneful fragrance, and melodies both soft and delicious. Like the siren, humans are souls divided, and when they meet only one will survive. Survive on until the next tragic inevitability.