I have received a letter from her
with aquamarine envelope.
A red fire lionfish
swims and writes
my name and address on the envelope.
Her house, in beginning, was on a beach.
Thereafter, it was a bamboo raft
gently rowed across the mirror of harbor.
Her lips were two shinning shells of purple calm,
pinned on an empty fishnet.
To open the envelope,
hit on the surrounding white walls.
The wind called by seabird
runs across the field,
likely as school students late for the physical education,
blows my poems off the table
into the waves to
a gushing of spoondrift.