Those calm swamp-green eyes,
Gliding like alligators,
Float to this shore
And bump awake.

Sea-legs jerk.
Hands swim still, submarine pink, the palms
Stretched out like starfish.
I'm the old wharf you live on.

Your tongue draws oceans in, not spitting
A word out. Quick, fluttery, slight
As a guppy,
Coercive as undertow.

Oh paramecium
I am your gross-pored mama. Hydra,
An elephant
Suckles you.

In the wilderness you are a spring.
You perpetually melt,
Lake and river maker, dedicated as the porpoise
To return to the sea.

Do you want both worlds?
I see you rooting,
Arms random, then possessive, like potatoes
Sprouting.

Or, needing, needing to need,
You cry yourself purple as eggplant.
You are wordless, but never mind:
You have your sort of song.

It can be heard above the breakers.
I watch you, you're far out on the horizon.
I am landlocked as a cat.
You will never run dry.