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
fuheva…
