June 22, 2001
When you first placed your mouth on mine
you could not know
that my soul would slip off my tongue
such a slight and subtle thing
and now, I fear, you have swallowed it.
There are oceans unfolding in your throat.
Your stories are ships that may never return.
I had gone with them, the story goes
and now I am lost
half-drowned and bedraggled
where your dolphins weave their dance
as they sing, velvety, wet:
She is waiting for you, and she drowns in her dream
She is wet, she is waiting for you
You have swallowed me, love, you must spit me out
or I'll learn to swim in your sea.