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Letter from a Shipwrecked Man

This women is the ocean,
this women is the sea
this women whose wobbles
mean so much to me
 
We could sail away forever
with three sheets to the winds
We could dodge those awkward tides
we could air out the sins
 
There was no eve to speak of
there never was a snake
our crash is mutiny of the mothership
our ship was mostly fake
 
We’re shipwrecked on island shores
so undetermined from there
our lives can be a legend
of love instead of fear
 
Such a home is not a prison
if we always want to be in
let’s write our own books on how to live
and sell them back for gin.
 
Now I ride on the ocean
Conquer the darkness of my sins
I breathe, I live, I sing
I stand and say with a grin:
 
This women is the ocean,
this women is the sea
this is a women whose wobbles
can level uneven me
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