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“
Paradise Isle by Stewart Stafford
In superstitious guidance,
I discovered your shallows,
Ingénues' on naked dunes,
Edenites of Paradise Isle.
Tragedy and chance are but pirates;
One welcome, both shocking rogues,
Am I a castaway or a sleepwalker?
Let motivations as explorers gather.
Leaving footprints only we can see,
The wet sand, a camouflage ally,
We quit the beach and head inland,
As crabs in shade to the waterline crawl.
© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.
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Sexual love makes of the loved person an Object of appetite; as soon as that appetite has been stifled, the person is cast aside as one casts away a lemon which has been sucked dry
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