Oh Captain

a poem


by your salty whisper

I am left languid,


and breathless

in the dark

by the games we play.

Wring another

tide of passion from me

oh Captain

and surf desire’s waves

onto shore once more

then bury me

in the cooling sand

before the sun rises,

an X to mark your

treasure horde.

A secret pleasure

of the flesh—resting


until our next play date

when a scoundrel

of a different hue

whispers in the night

and we set sail yet again

on hungry seas

to horizon’s end.

Tarrant Smith 2020

Photo: Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash