Again the last fin fits The dead shingle The weather Carried the shore crossed cooled.
The mermaids died Beyond the receding mist Kissed The ragged rocks so sharp.
What would we do in this incessant occurrence Where the fish remains stained in the ether Why remains stay dead in a long line Without this wave where in the end We ask the fishermen where they shorn Withal and all called the lighthouse Whether the ships did crash in time.
What would I do what I did yesterday And watch the mermaids fade in pieces Breathing their last as they breathed their best Breath on a rocky sand stands a corpse Branded the death of their species.
They danced on the land, behands Chains of sand, grained, we remained Lovers through it all. I never kissed a wet so breathlessly blissed From the waters waded wings we asked One more dance. One more dance.
Eoghan Lyng is a new Irish voice, who writes from perspectives Spanish, Czech, French and English. Samples of his work can be read at Outlaw Poetry, Vada Magazine, From The Lighthouse, The Medusa Review and Poets Reading The News. He can be found on twitter @eoghanlyng