Saturday, April 8

So with a sigh and a soft nudge
the Mariana trench, spreading
wide, wild, and empty from
collarbone to wide breathing ribs
was stitched together.

Breathing became solid and full
with each lilt of his lips against
her skin. He turned, faced her
straight, pulled her from the squall.

The Siren of Mariana shall sink
no more ships to fill her Pacific heart.
Her tears floating her instead toward heat.

His heat sewn among her scales,
soothing cactus blooms of their love—

the color of a dusty desert dusk.

Via *