None can deny her shimmering beauty, languid sensuality reaching out invitingly, the allure of her fragrance, the sweetness of her whispers and sighs, the gentle way she rocks you in her arms on one day and thrashes you in torrents of unmitigated passion the next.
There’s a reason, you see, that men often look on the sea as a woman, have personified her as leviathon, sea-sprite, selkie, siren, mermaid, or Great Mother. Great capricious mother. Mayhap they are true creations one way or another. Either way, when envision mermaids so beautiful and alluring yet cold of heart and bereft of soul.
Souless? I don’t think so. I think she’s just misunderstood.
That notwithstanding, she will love you to death if you but give her the chance; take you into her icy embrace, slow dancing with you as you struggle in vain.
“I will love thee well,” she whispers through her veils of tiny bubbles, rolls you, tumbles you, pulls you down.
“Just surrender, my Love,” you hear as she wholly emcompasses you, kisses you so you feel the chill of it in your filling lungs, pressing you down inside her fathomless liquid depth, until you struggle no more.
And then, of course, she loses interest, wondering why you don’t want to play anymore.
Ah well, another will come in your place soon enough and few of those who come her way can possibly resist her for long.
Ha ha. Twisted m keeps thinking of the crazy green beauty in the original Star Trek, a belly dancer of considerable shimmy albeit not quite shimmer, first embracing and passionately kissing Kirk and then going after him with a knife, explaining to someone who tries to stop her, “But he is my lover, so I must kill him!”
So beware of blue or green beauties. They are DANGEROUS!