Her Swells

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by Mary Ann Back

Restraint is for the weak. Don’t think, when you dip your toes into the rhythmic swells of Amphitrite, I won’t swallow you whole, if it suits me. I am Poseidon and her swells are mine. They rise and fall with her every breath. They suckle my children and soothe the storms that vex my soul. If man survives her fickle fits, rest assured it is by my leave.

Should she cry, when misery churns her darkest depths, no mortal man can stay my hand. My judgment teems like a tempest tossed. No winds of mercy blow. The foibles of man, laid bare, dash upon the rocks of her weathered bones.

Her roiling currents, mountainous waves, and swirling pools move as one with me. The rhythmic swells of Amphitrite rise to meet my thrust. I am Poseidon. And her swells are mine.

 

BIO: Mary Ann Back, of Mason, Ohio, was awarded the 2009 Bilbo Award for creative writing by Thomas More College. Her writing has appeared in many publications, including: Short Story America, Every Day Fiction, Bete Noire, Apollo’s Lyre, 50 to 1, Flashes in the Dark, A Twist of Noir, Flash Fiction Chronicles, and Screenwriters’ Daily.