He told her that he was a pirate,

let her peek under his patch.

She shivered his timbers.

He walked her plank.

Together they yo-ho-ho’d

until the island was dry

of Caribbean rum.

When the tide rose as high

as her hopes,

he hoisted the Jolly Roger,

sailing away on a night with no moon.

And all the while she slept

like a mermaid,

the mark of an “x”

black on her heart.