by Carol Lipszyc

Dark steering of love along the curve
and surge

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
that follows

now compressed to
dead weight and
a crooked line of air.