in the Pacific your point of origin

		          a speck of pollen 
but a diaspora delivered you

to every beach resort 
your trunk adolescent slim-muscled,

smoothskinned with occasional

acne and zits
your substitute leaves

scimitars

	of baby claws,

stockwhips for the kiddies. 
there’s surfwax oozing from your pores

yet the swell keeps slipping away

from your toes
You reach for the sky

you organic pyramid

and I’ll sit in your shade licking

a pine-lime Splice, our backs together, staring out towards the horizon …