Seaveins stream their themes of blue, brown, bleed
their color ladders from above the surface of the water, the skin, the limn
between us, you beneath the water, me above.

Water’s the exchangeable spearmint
between inside and out. A mouth. Old water, fossil water, a canopy intercepting
aloe, me, eucalyptus, you, your scent waterlogged
faint and latent.

Even geese swap fertilizations. Who says a merman can’t fuck a landlubber?

This wetscreen envelope connects land and sky with rain druples.

The seasoned trees inhabit both worlds, puckered roots
and gnarly branches. Waterferns, even more so.

Those deep along in living have their bellybuttons pinched by water, their bodies brown from the sun but deep in the lifescar they’re lighter. Water accompanies us
in and out, our sexwet wedding.