"I don’t mind that you’ve got the ghosts
of girls you’ve kissed still living in the lines
between your teeth. That when we fight
you tell me often how you never want to come
back but that your body doesn’t allow you
to leave. That looking at you makes me feel
distinctly sick, like I’ve been on a boat
for too long. That instinct has taught you
how to spell my name before meeting me.
That you worry about not being perfect
or that you’re not ‘deep’ enough. Baby,
I don’t require an ocean to swim in.
I just need to be able to tread water
and lay on my back to shape the clouds
with my hands. I need to be able to float.
Because the ghosts will eventually tire
and go home. Your mind will catch up
with your body. I am practicing breathing
through the dizzy. While we wait,
chew on my name until the consonants
get stuck, until you taste me everywhere."