Born with a maritime heart,
haunted rocking,
melon rinds and coconuts
bobbing on little waves,
though I never learned to swim.
Sift through sunset sand
at the beach of language,
letter shards and lost dirges
while mermaids flick their tails
in mild disgust, abalone circlets
and long red hair quivering
as they correct my pitch.
I sing Norwegian Wood
and unearth a human skull,
pry it apart at the cracks
until I can see inside enough
to recognize it’s yours,
the predilection for blackberries
and moon colored wings
of your butterfly collection
smoldering in the empty dark.
I braid them into fishing nets
dragged down into subterranean oceans,
the angler fish’s wobbling lamp
always burning just out of reach.
Black lace for him,
hair twisted into gothic
gargoyles, stained glass
eyelids, each breath
a silk flag unraveling
in the gash of battle,
my shield snapping in the storm
as armies collided, cavalier hooves
ripping into rival skin
ragged clover and a pen,
gold splashed on fickle purple.
I reigned myself, teeth clenching,
leather and the jingle
of faceted charm bracelets,
until I saw the six pack
of raspberry wheat beer
in the calloused fingers
of his dominant hand,
my favorite flavor,
backstepping as I tossed
a stream of auburn over my shoulder
and he grabbed me by the chin,
lips no excuse for the hour.
I offered surrender
as I dragged a set
of french tips down his shoulders,
back curled and a feral moan.
The cat
swirls a paw
in ashes
of copper urn,
a samba in purgatory,
her eyes
tired little Saturns,
air conditioning
tickles our shower curtain.
Were you there?
Ghost all wet
little beads of ectoplasm,
I take a sip
of Shiraz,
the bath too hot
as I prepare
a swan dive.
I noticed the cold front
gliding in from the Pacific, that salty
slur on the lips of the ocean
after it’s been bathing in the sun
too long, rolling a tequila bottle between its palms
until the glass is chapped
and ambiguous, hopelessly empty.
In the minutes between
our conversation I felt my eyes,
of which I had never considered the texture before,
scratch themselves as they
drizzled into the cumulonimbus
eavesdropping above the parts in our hair.
We were shooting marbles
at each other from a corner of the boardwalk,
the circle drawn in chewed off nails and cum,
so we never believed the storm
sidling its way across the planks,
whistling and grey, could tear us apart.
I don’t remember asking questions,
only the gleam of an electric globe
and the ferris wheel
as the sea fell apart across my shoulders
and the catch in my throat as your red
jacket dissolved in the panes of the rain.
