she is draped in a chemical heat
a lace of carbon and ancient law
she arches her spine toward a molten sun
the frantic shorthand of the pulse
thrives in the slip of the grip
the anatomy is surrendering
current to current, a tidal rush
hunger not spoken but tasted
you rewrite
the fossilized rules of the ribcage
she dissolves in a heavy bass
the mind is a vanishing vapor in
the desperate gravity of hips,
a vibration claiming the earth
you blunt your own edges
the bruising and the bloom
she dissolves in a drum-thrum
mitochondrial Eve fractures into light
saturated with the first fire
you negotiate the song of blood
between the skin and the kin
the oldest gods are dancing
no breath
only the burn
only the jagged, silver edge
of a second
stretched until it breaks
you are no longer a name but the one
who taught the flame how to breathe
"I am the salt," she whispers,
"and you are the tide."