Nudibranchs Mostly harmless mermaid ghost. I fragment at your clown marigold dancer sea rabbit florescence, flounder at your dragon. Digit-backed jentacular carnival sushi swimming through abstraction. As if the microscopic world were magnified & drowned such,& therefore what movement into intimacy. My wife & I are going to the sea. I’m sizzling for Eden of pineapple rings, bedroom shipwreck, footprints in space—so I’m packing books & bathing suits, capes & toys, spiked slippers & a bit of the unknown. Fingertips of mathematics paralleling along a cenotes’ mouthroof. I want her to spread me marmalade then toast me. Exhausted beyond crawl, the brain lubricant, firecrackered in dopamine, oxytocin, I want me tongue- tied. Museum doors soon closing away the naked gill marbles. Leaf sheep Bubble snail Feathered anus. Emptied shell. Lost in the depths I want to confuse body of water with body of water. Unaccustomed as they’ll’ve become to solid ground my knees might sinkhole under the water column of the showerhead. Internal rocking tethering me. Substrate of floating feeling. Déjà vu a hair before the recognition. I might return sunburned tailbone. I might come back electric eel
-- LGBTQ+ artist, NEA and MacDowell Fellow, and former Key West Poet Laureate, Flower Conroy’s books include Snake Breaking Medusa Disorder, A Sentimental Hairpin and Greenest Grass (winner of the Blue Lynx Poetry Prize, forthcoming 2023). Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in New England Review, American Literary Review, The Yale Review and elsewhere.