They appointed themselves with
reinventing the narrative. So he never tried to tame her, and left her scales and teeth unfiled. But species is one thing. They never accounted for the convergence of like personalities - naturally, they were both Aries - or how he could be too quick with his sword, snipe at her out of fear; she, coughing up live charcoal. They bought a fire extinguisher. Beneath him, she’d seethe and rumble until her body was a landscape unknown, uncrusaded. They tread the lattice-line between ages, and await ‘dull’ days: days when they conquer mythic pressure, and he lies lapsed in the fold of her wing as she wreathes small rings of smoke, and has thanked their friends for the counselling. when I think of you, I taste salt.
those fingernail tears - your hands as streams, how you held me against the waves of breath your mouth blew into my palm like kisses on my unformed stomach. when I think of you, my fingers are blue - the colour of your eyes and early tide as you held me afloat, I kicked circles you traced on your love’s swollen stomach. my fingers wear the wrinkles of your skin in this water; the shadow of early tide takes your shape as you held me on your shoulders - I stood on them and saw the glittering surface of the water that smiled like you. your heart echoes in my chest; it catches the beat of a slow waltz tempo to the dancing ocean and blue, blue, blue. cradle of the world
breathe form into formlessness hold my aching shape |