From the tips of my fingers,
coated with a soft ivory key,
You blossom.
Flowering outwards
Like the tail of the salmon
Stark against the foamy white rush.

And suddenly it stops.
As I lift my hand,
the pearl that congealed at the tiny mouth
Slowly slides from me,
Leaving a ruby trail as he
chases something I cannot see.

His door winks at me.