APHRODITE


Such looseness in me –
joints all toss and sway;
light-flecked curves
all spillages of motion:

a nibbling slick clinging to
the dangling hem of shoreline
like a frothy, wayward thread.

My turbulence shepherds
the lost like sheep through
straits beyond all fathoming;

I tug at their sleeve like a
motherless child, echo
through their nautilus ear
steering them head to wind.

In mind’s uncharted waters,
I’m a dove-tide low but turning
on a winter’s afternoon,
high-surf on midsummer’s eve.

A silvered dolphin passage,
a mirrored swan in flight.