5.07 A.M. Poem by Jaya Savige

Sundials shark through
cool zaffre, finning
toward dawn.

Adrift, warm-blooded,
you long to sleep
but your pulse, nomadic

roams again
the humming coastline
of your skin, thunders

heel to thumb,
taut as stretched vellum.
Press here.

I do, and feel
and know again
the drum, the single low

frequency you share
with neap tides
in the frenzied air, as

thumb to palm we strum
toward something
akin to calm.