The Girls from Galilee

I. First Swim

"I don't know how," I say.
"Easy," she explains.
"Here, no one leads."

With this, we spin.
The sea fans breeze our faces.

II. Sleep-Over

Her arms seagrass my arms.

My hands starfish her hands.

Our clams wink unladylike.

Anemones are all we wear.

III. Truth

Her brows knit.
Her lips part.
So modest, I thought.

"Those were coral reefs.
That was whale song," she sighed.
"What do you make when you come?"

IV. Dare

"I'll touch yours. You'll touch mine."
      She gathered up my pebbles.

Then, sandbars raised, she showed the way
      women walk over water.

V. I Wish I Had Flowers to Give Her

Her lips on my breasts
plie and pirouette
landing light

as seahorses.

VI. Watching Her Sleep

Crystalline spit—
Pearls from her lips—

Oh, to have a cord to string them!

VII. Breakfast at Tiffany's

No spoon,
but a bowl.

No fruit,
just cream.

I treat her.
She treats me.

VIII. Chantey