Dolphin-love amid the derricks,
the squeal and grind of iron cables,
seaweed like pistachio floss,
ruled by manmade currents.
The taut swing of a branch,
the moon entangled in gnarl and switch,
the silence before each splash.
The pears hang down like bells,
every unseen planet doubling as a sign of love.
Fingers voyage parallel from shoulders
to hips, wet hair whipped with flecks of light.
The canvas, made soft with wind-shred,
relaxes to the bodies’ dock,
salt-fingers on sunburned lips,
night fingers unbuckling, unzipping,
eyes sleep-heavy with dolphins.