Twenty Seven Sailors
by rosangelica.
Violence and music
in their purest state
traps twenty seven sailors
while I lock them away.
Mama says don't meddle
nestling your hands
where they don't belong
but you belong here.
Dry eyes
Dry mouth
Your fan
dries us out.
Our passions
expand
from your ship
to other lands.
Safe to say
I enjoy being
the pirate above the reef.
