Two Poems

A Streak of Light

In the shower, you wash my back
and at the same time you sing
the Spider-Man theme song.
The soap foams, webs
across me. From our window
we see the kaleidoscopic lights
of the hotel sign.
They are singing in bursts.
And the day has decided
to end itself in rain.
Water on us, water outdoors,
one dry layer of building between.
Inside, I lean into you.
Outside, the cactus crooks
to the will of the purpling sky.

Your Boat Slipped From Her Mooring

in the olive light of June, the soft hand of high tide below. My skin was tender from a new tattoo, a bird on my hip, a wound, which sucked on my dresses, dyed them yellow and brown. You undressed me there on the river Frome, fanning air over my skin, telling me a story about King Cnut, who left this place in ruins. A town made famous by the people sunk into the belly of its earth.