When the zephyrs come,
sturgeons mistakenly mate,
Limbs coalescing against
shapeless organs.
Bicolored, widowed,
male by male, dragged
Caudally, reclusively
into jellyfish and coelenterates,
Anemones brimming over
with pearly powder, uncertainty’s
Nectar and fear floating
between cold water and heat of lip.
Sheen of lapis lazuli creeps
from caudal plume scales.
Diaphanous circles mature
to scalpel eyes.
Now, your head
appears from the surf,
The siren ascending
through layers of hair,
Whip of cocked traps,
scars across your sternum
And nail beds wrinkling to
azure, turquoise, cyanotic blue.
Pleasure lifts the shivering
of ducks and drakes
To vanishing above
arachnoid infrareds of light.
Calvin Wei is an otolaryngologist in New York City.