Mating Chain

Learning the difference takes so long. Of being demeaned or being

taught to navigate the seafloor. It’s a language of stoplights

and dark folds you never saw creasing. For example, left is actually

below your stomach and to the right is a reef of indigo. Patches of grey

and pink fondle me to sleep. I want to be one of the species

that pins down the other, circling two or more lovers. To push

my flimsy heart forward in the currents. Lithe as eelgrass,

drunk on endorphins. The best a body can do

is fold itself in half, flapping flail, repetition

of loneliness. But what’s the difference between this hunger

and parasitic tendency? I twist and steer each tentacle,

tying knots against the stillness. This one to symbolize love and the other,

savagery. I’m learning the subtlety, braiding between them.