disorderly, marvelous, and ours. the granite boulders were a huddle
of hatchling turtles. she and i laid on the shell of one and watched the night sky.
i might have imagined the stars, constellations, were locked in place and we were the ones moving,
propelled by his little claws, the earth a pond or something like a pond.
we floated away from orion’s belt and ursa major and minor, stroke by stroke.
if we paid close attention, meteors would streak the sky, flying millions of miles to be seen for less than one of his hatchling heartbeats.
she said we could stay, but i’m cold. i said i’m okay with leaving.
i wanted to thank him, the hatchling, the newborn beast,
but i didn’t know how, so i kissed her instead.