A Cloud Evaporating Inside the Sea

Her hair is always piled on her head in wild tangles
like the crow’s nest of a schooner out on the windy high seas
while waves crash and slap the sides of the ship.
And just like the windy high seas, I breathe her,
timeless and salty, into the bottom of my broadened chest.
When I am inside of her I disappear, a sack of salt spilt
in the warmth of the water all around, a cloud evaporating inside the sea.