Fever 103

I, too, am a Mollusk

like you,

ship-shape and hard,

twisted in liquid sheets,

damp and turning
in slow,
dark, revolutions

Spine to the outside

gripping mitts

and a

forgotten tail.

We, two, identical,

dreaming in blood-rhythm,

in a phlegm house,

Little squire

Little purpose

Little squatter

In your crimson

World float,

Turn the wheel

of that

Hard dream.

I, to the sea

You, to the land.

Me, pushing off

You, sinking in.

We are a love-

knot,

intertidal,

two old species,

fossils pressed

into slick

stone
geologic crush and melt

shoving off 

toward the
soft
promise

of Matter