and the Atlantic Ocean starts to come
toward them, a great water hand reaching out.
The new lovers press into each other,
clutch each other:

is this you

and

chest rising: it is me.

His head is buried in her neck;
she can feel his hardness against her thigh.
The water comes and comes.
They lock eyes

I just met you

and

How long has it been?

then

Does it matter? The tide is coming.

Water rises over their stomachs, shoulders,
over their heads. He kisses her again
as greenish-blue vines
entangle them.
Like two palms, their mouths are placed up to the other;
she breathes through him and
he through her.

And so there is a statue
halfway between New York
and London
of two lovers under the ocean
who cared not for time nor distance,
but only the breath of the newly discovered.

09/03/2005

Author's Note: Dedicated to Tony. And will someone please teach me how to italicize? And be gentle with this poem. I've been dry for five months and this is the first creature that has come out. I just wanted SOMETHING new on here.

Posted on 09/04/2005
Copyright © 2026 Lisa Marie Brodsky