by Carol Lipszyc
Dark steering of love along the curve
his barbed tongue on the salt of her skin her red cone
heart tipping like a buoy in the breach of water
warm-blooded float on the open sea
bobs so lightly he can cup it in his hand
tilt it to the current of his choosing
swift and deep.
How to secure a heart
with a knotted rope
of unintended promise?
She gauges the distance
she thought palpable
her hips under his
wave of breath
now compressed to
dead weight and
a crooked line of air.