The salt lifts my bloated body
making itself one with my saline
tries for osmosis, equilibrium

it’s storming now, in the conduit chamber
with the cables that run between us

they corrode with the salt pushing in
they are muddled and stomped from the treading

there’s always a lot of water involved
in endings

outside the air brings the storm
and when not water, lightening
or rumbling

from your square shoulders
looming over lunch,
forward over mine

the eruption of your volcano
the steam as it hits my water
the black sand it makes

finally my face salty as the water
black beads swallowing to the brow.

October, 2017