Let’s meet back at that thatched-roof-excuse
for a hotel, perched at the edge of the sea.
Where the jungle at night lights itself
in a soft green fire, fluorescent lichens
and moss ambling across the root and trunk
of every braided tree. We’ll wave goodbye
to the guests as the last boat leaves, and no one
will see us dancing on the terrace
disrobed of our bodies. No one knows
we’re there at all, swaying
in the wind and slanted rain. At night,
mosquitoes will pass right through. The bats
find no blood and nothing can touch us
except our desire. Every night, we’ll make love
hovering above the stiff straw bed, fold
ourselves in and out of each other. Then comes
the sun, climbing again the bamboo rafters.
And the waves go on kissing each other,
bang awkwardly the rough-shaven cliffs
that keep falling in a jumble into the sea.
AE Hines is the author of Any Dumb Animal (Main Street Rag, 2021). His poetry has recently appeared or is forthcoming in The Montreal Poetry Prize Anthology, Alaska Quarterly Review, Rhino, The Missouri Review, I-70 Review, Sycamore Review, and Tar River Poetry among other places. Originally from North Carolina, he resides in Portland, Oregon and Medellín, Colombia. www.aehines.net.