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