Le Corsaire

by Flora de Falbe

Look what the sea dragged in,
rugged and salt-cheeked like a bit of weathered glass.
All the ladies love a pirate. All the pirate loves
is the lady with limbs like fireworks,
throwing herself from shape to shape as though made of light.
If sold, she’ll slip your fist before you touch her;
if bought, she’ll call her pirate king to save her;
and storms will send them skipping over waves, unchained,
her hair still, somehow, full of flowers.