He too love being by de see side. Torrents of shadows spray and cascade over he burnt mahogany skin, soaking he tuh he soul. De dark does crash into he head, sending thoughts swimming and scampering for de shelter of deep-dream reefs. De sun-bleached, salt-streaked bones of childhood dreams and aspirations lay strewn across his life, standing testimony to the dead pools of judging eyes that follow him whenever he walks through the village. But the pools are alive here. Teeming with seeming thousands of testaments to the heart of a rebel, the soul of a rogue. Here swirling eddies gasp as waves of wet-backed black grasp at strands of elusive green. His hands know the feeling; he pockets like rip up nets, all he earnings like conga dat does always get throw back.
He does come to see sea in de big belly night. Cause de light just too dammed dry. Desiccating, sucking every last drop of sweet outta de world. Too harsh man, too hard; de night doah, she hate sharp edges. Just like he. Love to embrace evating, full-bodied, round-hipped, to caress contours and curves and sculptured… dat is why de night love de moon. At least dat is what see tell he.
Hushed windwords and stuttered susurrations trickle in a stream right long he back. Cross de way Woman’s Tongue does dip down she lofty head tuh drink from de deep purple pooling in de crook of a mango tree – mussee Julie – or perhaps she seeking tuh snatch a sweet sip of gossip tuh wet she appetite. But we all thirsty fuh something, right?
Right now he thirsty. Thirsty baaaaaad. Thirsty fuh she, de see. He just want tuh close he eyes, op’n up he head and plunge face-first intuh de very depths uh see. Yuh see sea moist. Just de way he like it. Like it too bad. Just like de night.
Sea, de night is a bare rebel. She does berely but brek all de rules. All de prim and proppa, prissy, gots-tuh-get-on-jus-so sorta ting dem does want tuh play dat dem is in de daylight? De night see does strip way. Rip off negligee, ‘cause dem does neglect tuh tell yuh dat dem does do de said very tings too dat dem does wash dem mout ova yuh fuh. In de night. But she does see. Vicky Secrets does get lay out, whosoever hath an eye let them sea.
Dat is why he love see so. Sea is de one woman dat does really keep yuh trust safe. Sea is he own lady; fair lady in de night. He does lay he head pun she roll-white pillow and sea does cry fuh he. See got bucket-a-drop uh tears store up, and all uh dem she give fuh he.
He too love being by de sea side. De tide does tug at he navel-string and born he over all cross de world. Neva did a man find such a girl as sea. He could stand by she sea… she…see… sea see side