By Samuel Tongue

you come cold from the sea and i am a wrecked sailor,
licking saltwater pearls from your blue breasts. i am gone
salt-mad with thirst. my mouth wants the sea inside you.
your bright belly is an upturned boat and i am keel-hauled.
i suck air and our ribs catch. i am swollen and salinated cells
heaving. sand becomes glass under heat. silicate shines
in the telescopic sun. i am anemone-eyed at a low tide.
when i am only cracked ears pressed to the cup of your cavities,
then, then, then, i hear your hot heart boom and i am all echo and drift.

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