What a Horrid Thing, This Love

Quick, sink into this bath with me

a salt-laden body with

walls crumbling and dissolving

and when I inhale, my mouth is a dam and water

breaks through

my cheeks and teeth like domino pieces

and it is your tongue on my tongue

and I breathe in not the slow, comforting ocean

but sharp-cold water.

We’ve been floating for days, or

what feels like days because I cannot feel my limbs

anymore.

They’ve grown coarse and limp and still

your taste lingers on my lips

even as you drift further away from me

and the waves are splashing over our bodies

and the air turns rancid and stale.