The kiss, my phone. The harbour, my darling.
The waves are children nuzzling for affection.
The mozzies, too, like pins.
Ghosts crowd, and her voice is soothing:
“Have you ever heard of love languages?”
The ferries glide in gowns of light
on pulsing tides in peach-brown night.
“You might consider a dinner? A show?”
These words, they come as if from the stars.
As if from a beaming planet
with painted eyes and lips that move
while hanging on a stage’s backdrop.
(The actor’s words of honied mirth
in fact are heard from sunny Perth).