Sweep low your marine arms through me, my love,
and rouse this river into tidal stories,
swelling and shy, advancing in retreat,
these waters swinging sweet
caress the ridges of your Neptunian glories.
Your saline currents split the lulling flow
tearing off droplets to deck a fortress marsh,
carving my depths in stinging chemistry,
swallowing longings in a crystal promise.
I yield to marsh and reed and fish whose gills
exhale salty cyphers that make my sweet waves blush,
if blushing were the color of merged floods
whose atoms dance a battle of ionic bonds.
I yield to you, I rise and fall with you,
My honeyed waters no longer unitary,
You've alchemized my shifting river heart.
I am your estuary.
August 29, 2020 ~ Piermont