It Was Dark When They Met by Jan Windle

Their lips were small crabs
searching a shell
was their sweetness
and dry
their seahorse tongues.

Her breath was made of candle glow.
He could not extinguish her
he waited for her
to blow over.

His tongue was a tsunami
she was the shore laid waste.

That night
pearl divers

were the only survivors.

Copyright 2009

Author's Bio: An artist and illustrator turned writer. Published flash fiction online at (2007 - 2009) and in print in the 2008 Dogzplot Anthology. Poetry published in print in The Delinquent Magazine Issue 7 (2008). Interests: painting; writing; reading; Italy