My name streams from your mouth—
an adagio with indentations and
a scent of sacrifice.

I see my name
written in
grass style calligraphy.

I want to slide into each stroke
and swim with each stroke.

I am a dolphin swimming,
bobbing up and down
along the Wai’anae coast

I am afraid of drowning.
The dolphin in me says,
I love you.

Listening to my name is listening
to a command.

It is the act
of emptying out—
decanting the purification water
from a cruet.

This article appears in December 2 2013.