A Current I'd Choose Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

I want to embrace you as a river does —
in full tidal force, and tip you off balance,
then run downriver with you
to the mouth of the estuary,
where fresh water forgets itself in salt,
and with one shrill moment, a gull leaves its own body,
only to return, grappling with its final descent.
There, the current holds us in its whirlpool,
spent, but never off course —
a current I'd choose, every time,
relishing brine on my tongue,
and the salt of you that marks me yours.