Stop & Look, Alicante

Why is there (under this sea) always
an other sea? Scrolling through miles
of leopard-print bikinis, I wonder, could I go
“all out”? Just imagine where my cleavage should peak,
would peek from under—do I go for side or classic?
Which stretch marks will I sun, running
like shoals of mica palmed by waves?
Will I add a shell
accent?

Some saddie on the web says,
a hungry moon snail made the mark,
says, moon snails release an acid
to soften the shell, then drill a borehole
(a toothed tongue) and feed off the meat
of the “victim.”  What if  I lost

these breasts altogether? I’m hunting.
Another saddie says, those holes were made
by a boring sponge, drilling holes
into shells  for their calcium.

The leopard walks on water. Their claws
just prick the surface without going under.
You’re a heavy cat, and I wish I had you-
r muscle. Just imagine. I could love it.

Source: Poetry (January 2023)