Being Nautical Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Here in the warm
gloom of our room

as snow talks to itself
outside over & over

I contemplate
your navel

concentrate on it
with the tip of my tongue

trace the twirls of your
beginnings

before
(like a drunken sailor)

I set sail
sally forth
go directly
(due south)

arrive at
your equator

your lips
parting with pleasure

your hearty
'Ahoy there! '

making me
shiver

in ant...
...tic...i...
...pation

as you
welcome me

into port.

Ship to shore.

Ship
to
shore.