COUPLE AT THE SHORE

In her dreams, the sea will not let her rest,

carrying on its metronome:

rush and pull, swell and din.

The sea wants to enter this house,

finds its way inside with sand

hidden in suits, salt lingering

on skin. The woman locks doors,

latches windows, draws curtains to a close,

but its roar permeates walls.

When she wakes, she is submerged.

No dustcloths, brooms, or mops

suffice to send it out. The sea

will not let her forget

the trip and fall of his breath.