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 a gull cries, leaving the reed-beds behind.
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.