A Rapid Embrace

The Teanaway River tucks me in his elbow,

leans over the bank 

to kiss my forehead.

Or maybe it’s me 

who kneels, presses 

my face to the green 

cobbled floor of last era’s

ocean, the present’s

veins. Maybe it’s me

who kisses the veins 

on the inside of his elbow,—

my love’s, the river’s—

the cold current washing

 past our sight.