When I realized
I could not make it
out of the sea, I
lay down in a place
you'd be sure to
find me,
​
buried treasure
in a pirate lea. Flying fish
dive down, drown,
feast on flesh, lush
organ cavity eels'
treasure chest. Crabs
pick away every trace
of meat, angel
fish in ribs
move in
​
safe haven,
sand-polished seashell bones.
But then,
you,
you were there,
your windburned face, tangled
wavy hair. You had more to be
than a salt-white line
in the sand. I had to rescue
you, breath-holding mine,
pulling your hand
from the dark jeweled
cave; your mouth
lifted to kiss, wet lips
part above
the heaving waves,
a momentary mortal bliss.