flat.fish.flesh

It ought to be a full-on howling gale
that tears you ear from ear right through the night.
A rant at all that wrecked this loved up tale.

It needs to shout away till mouth turns pale
and rip to shreds the shade as fades the light.
It ought to be a full-on howling gale.

An unapologetic wind for sail
to cast your half-shelled goddess into sight.
A rant at all that wrecked this loved up tale.

It stirs to throw the storm right off the scale
and force a face to eye a lamp too bright.
It ought to be a full-on howling gale.

Its song is heard in midnight’s distant wail
and from a tug on torso zipped up tight.
A rant at all that wrecked this loved up tale.

Before it strikes take care, you’ll need each nail
to stand against the swell as waves take height.
It ought to be a full-on howling gale.
A rant at all that wrecked this loved up tale.