The Stories, The Poems, and The Prose of Nadine Sellers

    Thalassa, mistress of Neptune,
    rolling liquid of moods,
    Sea that frightens little feet,
    and squeezes throats at high tide,
    Sea that calls the young moon
    in response to small desires,
    Ocean grey, ocean green,
    that spits on the past
    in large angry waves,
    throwing man and matter back
    to shores of decay,
    Troubled bodies immerse their pain
    in waters at large
    and wars become submerged
    in maelstroms beyond science
    where mystery remains
    our chemistries are uncovered
    and merge into the sea
    of essential lymph
    The primal home calls in magnetic waves
    to becalm the plasma of universal fear
    The rythm of fluid energy caresses
    the saline semen of neutrality.
    rushes the viscous underbelly of tired souls,
    in the saline serum of our return,
    our blood, magnified
    in homogenous minerality
    Harmony, diluted in the currents
    to the soft white sands of rest,
    ever drawn to the shores by dreams,
    we return to the sleep
    of mother warm,
    mother Thalassa