Dragonflies

The dragonflies’ wings whip-crack
tat-tat-tat beat against each other in tandem flight
the male holding his body close enough
locked onto her trajectory at great speed
for their hind and fore tips to clatter in unison
choreographing a firecracker’s drum beat
the crackle of electrostatic
sustained for seconds, as she darts left and right
a daredevil chase, to prove to her his adroitness and ability
that he can remain hovering thorax to thorax
at this
that perfect closeness
that perfect distance
to win the chance to love her.

I remember you on the slopes of Tintagel
soft marshes of skin and berried cheeks
how we whispered no hay prisa on repeat, and listened
to Joanna Newsom as your border collie slept in the cab
the warm salt-sweet of you rising like coral from beneath the sheets
and how we went to stand naked in the night
so strong it could almost push us over
the beam lights and distant pound of percussion across the bay
and opened our arms to it, and how it felt like I was stood
in the fire with you
not just for the storm, but for love
the risking of my skin for you
how you’d told me there…