The Ultimate Woman

He used to call her mermaid,

When she came straight from the shower,

To the room, utterly naked.

He named the tiny pools that she made,

Pacific, Atlantic, Indian, Arctic...

He explored her for the salt in her body,

At times the salt turning sweet, bitter.

Rising like a wave, she towered over him,

Splashing the sea all around, it flooded.

Measuring her curves, the depths,

He forgot his counts and arithmetic.

Like an enchantress, she taught him,

The ones, twos, threes and the like.

Like a disciplined novice, he sat at her threshold,

Picking up things meticulously under her guidance.

The strange fragrance of her underbelly never left him,

It followed him through all the women he knew later.

When earthquakes curved up the earth,

He was thrown into an orgasm, remembering her waves.

When isolated in war zones, the war cries reminisced him,

Of her ecstatic, distorted horrifying groans.

There always remains a single woman in every man's life,

Whom he seeks in all others he meets,

Whom he loves with the salt of his existence.