an evening facing the tangerine seafloor
where mermaids mate and breed some more

each child looks like a cypress tree, hanging
on the peak of twists, crafts wider than brains

but some forget their belly buttons’ bow
and underwater a search arises, sea-babies go

couples who watch from their hotel room
when he asks why you cry, say you’re amused

she is lavender, she remembers the month
spent scavenging for her own swimming dove