The skins we'd splayed whipped
from their nylon cords. We dropped
the cliffs and buggered out; the tent
was lost. Black ropes of sky
swayed from our ears like kelp. Our steps
made pits and waned and fell
and waned and fell and were undone.
the rise; when I got up, there you were,
white as time. Then
sharks sang in my guts, unchanged,
unphased, ten billion years.
Black mussel, I've been silent, but I have not been
unseen. Inside the sea-green husk,
things have been