A visit to Lisamu
by Zora Sowinska
My poems talk to each other the same way
otters smooth out over each other’s chests hair peaking and wrestling into urchin spikes,
Aphroditing the seafoam a foray into abalone a loving lunch Whole, rich, and filthy
As we watch life spread thick like butter over the bay I see bigger things redesign the sky,
things that we don’t know yet things that rise above us, sailors in-the-wind.
The otters are good at becoming indistinguishable at least better than me
they cross-fade, one mass and one mother Muted and blue like these hills
Some people call them mountains but we know the truth it’s okay to make
our shadows seem smaller so they can’t take us apart
On its way out, the light lengthens over the horizon
creeping up the sand into your pacific eyes. I know you are thinking of how best to
climb them, I know, I know just how you
are thinking.