I am reading alone in a lounge chair
when she swims up to me,
a topless, stunning beauty,
skin like melted chocolate,
eyes like the sky.
She says flattering things,
flirts like a school girl,
invites me into the lake for some fun.
I close my book and inch toward the edge of the dock,
hear her panting,
glimpse the shark teeth in her mouth,
see her breasts swelling with anticipation.
I am drawn to her animal scent.
The water is clear and
I see her tentacles churning below the surface.
Half human, half kraken.
My father spoke of the one,
the one our ancestors called Archy,
just before he disappeared.
Twenty years ago,
I would have run away in fear.
But now I am nearing the end of my years,
have handled the details of my estate,
have been sitting on this dock for weeks,
looking out at the water,
hoping for an appearance.
No need to keep her waiting.
I strip naked,
am surprised by my primal desire,
and reach for her outstretched hand.