I'm
a slippery
little otter
          under your
             melting hands
              flipping 'round
        my wet dark tail
as you make of me demands
your requests
             get me hot
make me swirl and twirl
                             and purr
as if I am of cat family,
not salt-licked sea baby
all wrapped in
           squelching fur
Now I am running
through forest        
        achingly free
        and brazen-bold
my mind in present moment
a lightness in my soul
doing what it takes
to survive
in this world of coldness harsh
indelibly finding my way
back to my hidden
          backwater marsh
for my hearth is  lilting sea
                  my kin made of
                            flipper and bone
                           my inner wild
             sings primal melody
as I leap into
what I call home
for after the rough and tumble
and inhalation of ocean's scent
after the kelp is all digested
I will place my head
          upon your chest
and breathe deep in rhythmic  
ebbs and tides
as my sleekness
enters your soul's portal,
                 your quiet fire of spark
this is where I can nestle,
                    contour-deep
in the glow of
your flickering
                    heart

Have you ever met someone
that makes you want to grab their
hand, turn it over, and
gently press your lips
into the soft part
of their wrist,
tenderly scarred and
rich in its
flowing deltas of blue veins,
beautifully alive.
Someone who you want
to hold, hold
their shaking existence,  
through the rain,
clicking on the windows
of their ribcage,
through the silent
light of spring,
hard dark
of winter.
You would give
your head and your heart,
to see the sun shine on
the easy curve of their cheeks,
lips parted in a smile
like the dissolution
of ice.