The sea cringes tonight,
Like a first-time sex worker,
Resigned yet wary,
She spreads her legs tremulously and awaits the heave.
Wave after wave, they force themselves upon her,
Hooting, pink-stained, drunk on delight,
And silently she bears their victorious entry,
Lying still to soothe the quaking that feasts on her core.
And when the morning mist rises on the night’s debauchery,
Arms, torsos and severed trunks among the spoils,
She will lie naked, ashamed, exhausted and oozing,
Simply relieved to be alive.