a poem to be read outloud while imagining your lover

but we were just

two

drowned
orchids,

quivering

beneath
the surface,

fleshy petals stitched
together, consumed
by
a small disaster.

naked.
waiting.

for another downpour

penetrated
by the silent
violence
of submersion

and I
adored
you
and your
whispering movement
caught there
with me
in a watery photograph

desperate for a current
to draw us closer
to be swallowed

together
by the shallow wave

to make love
under

the gaze
of a

slow

tempo

death.