4110

When I hear your voice -
strange and cluttered from
computational purrs and whirrs -
I hear the ocean.

The waves crash against the
vocal chords of your accent.
Exotic and warm to the
cold, condensed and evaporated.

Even the murkiest waters conduct
the electrical delight
of kitten images and other jokes
that have made my heart dizzy

and my head brighter than summer.
You call me all names of royalty
so here we are
king and queen of that altantic

which always seems
so much smaller now -
pondlike -
in my dreams.