the reef


parked by the shoreline,
my lover I watch the sea:

some waves know
the schedule of our blinking,
and only surface when
we close our eyes.

others wilt and vanish forever
just as we give them nicknames.


my lover’s body is a shoreline,
and my hand on her stomach is a boat,
rising up and down as she breathes.

I know when her dreams begin
because that’s when
her drawn eyelids ripple from
all the currents underneath.

dreams rush about inside her
as if caught in a reef.
I watch her for a long time, wishing
I could time travel in her dreams.


my lover’s bellybutton is deep and dark,
a periscope through which I see
the fucked up things
she’ll do in the future.

tossed onto the floor
her clothes
are red and blue corals.

for a time, we swim in the air
of our clean, locked room,
looking for a way back to the sea.