Salt is how you taste and
Tarred rope of frayed hair at
Arm and groin as if I’m
Swimming I suck quick cold
Breaths and dive pearls until
I drown a seagull’s cry
In sheets of sweated foam.
You are, my love, rills of
Honey hair dripping down
The plunging mattress cliff
Where we lately made our love
Baltic eyes swimming shut
Under thin pink cowls of skin
A smile a scallop
Slinting wide upon the
Evening’s dune of jaw.

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