in wood knotin rainfallin streetlight.Calmly,stoically,her ancient eyebores into mine.I danceupon what could beboards,what could bea plain,uninteresting dock.I danceupon whatis an ancientbeing, acreature ofdeep wisdom.I danceupon her slick,rainwashed, groovedbody.I dance uponthe whale.

She is farfrom humanyet as complicatedas the knottedseaweed ofher kingdom.I dancedon heryet she dancedwith me—the squelchsquelch ofmy sneakersand the groansof her song,our music.

She glitteredin the streetlamplike gold,the curse ofman.

Whales don’t smile.

She is notwithout emotion;her eye tellsemotion inits ownsubtle ways.

I felt the deep drum of her heart.

The thudas I landedthat reverberatedthrough herrib cage andechoed in herbody andthe sea-sky beyondpumpedblood through hervessels.

A whale’s heart can beat twice every minute.

Every second herblood was building,beating.