I listen to your laughter

that perfumes the air

like a field of trilliums.

I haven’t witnessed

such bliss since I saw

a nude couple on fire

with love in the roiling

waters of Acapulco.

A full moon lit a milky path

for them to ride the waves

all the way home to Puerto


I dream of holding you

the way he clung to her

as if he was rescuing

a drowning mermaid.