Partially undressed,
the Earth catapults itself
 with broken, bottled feet
caught by the Sea
 its foaming, netted lover
whose arms of safety
wash ashore with the tide.

There is a blush
when in each other’s grip;
a changing of color
 from the innocence
  of an igneous child
 to the magma of cinnabar
  where lovers meet
in an unknown language
to exchange unknown letters
written before being written
 in ebbed, repeating sounds.

April 7th, 2021