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