She is ocean; I am red earth. Eddies lick at my toes. I rasp and blow inland over dunes; her salty foam holds her at the coast. She is ocean; I am fetid mud flat. Nubs of mangrove root emerge; she crabs away until un-cracked mud is just out of reach. I am coarse sand, I effervesce through her and settle on the shore, in the pause between firmament and wave. I am bony fragments, broken shells, and splintered feathers. She rubs and smooths me, soothes me, spits me out. She is ocean; I am earth, the whole earth, and the moon. We roll through aligning rhythmic motions, aligning cycles, our purposes aligned. She is ocean, she rises, crashes, foams, withdraws; my cunjevoi hold what tidal pulls cannot reclaim.
Nadia Kim is a queer poet/writer/student living in the outer (outer) north-west of the ACT. Her poetry has been published in Cordite, Bossy and Twisted Moon. In 2017 she was a creative content editor for Woroni, The ANU's student press, and helped curate and launch their creative writing magazine.