Before the mast

* before the mast *
Here before the mast
Time seems to slow
Seagull hanging on the wind
Wind-tipped swells to horizon
The voices have fallen silent
My face rests against hard wood
Rope around wrists bound tight
And hear the drawn out whisper
Of lash descending once more
Taste salt in my mouth
My muscles tense despite
My wish they would relax
And a shock of lightning
Followed ever so sweetly briefly
By collapse into senseless darkness
As pain explodes and drags
Every ounce of breath from me
Real time speed returns
An assault upon my ears
My own groans obscene
A taste of blood from bitten lip
As hear the lash drawn back again
The count is only up to three
Then the whisper loudest to my ears
As lash follows path once more
From air lash's edge draws a shriek
Announcing to my skin
Soon the lash will bite
Soon my nerves will burn
See seagull turn its head away
Know I should relax
An incongruous thought intrudes
A sailor's life for me.