Guide Her Eyes to Lightning

Teach her to taste adrenaline. Let her
suck it from your lower lip and swirl
it on her tongue. She’ll memorize how
sharp and raw it sometimes feels.

Push her from the bluff and watch
how her bare body folds itself in
waves. How it churns to froth
the murky surface.

When she gasps and laughs, follow
her down and break the water that
clings tight to her flesh. Guide her
eyes to lightning and let her float

belly-up to the stars. In late August
heat she hums Baptist hymns
on rocks black and carved
from glacier treks.

Soon she’ll lick chamomile from her
cup and salt from your collarbone,
and she’ll remember how she learned
to hold her breath when she falls.