Domain of the Flameback Angelfish

Tides floated us above Fire, Brain, and Staghorn
Coral, glowing violet, red, yellow, as if lit 
from within. Sleek as sharks, we swam 
in tandem. Lacy sea fans beckoned. 

The night wafted Wild Frangipani. Nothing
tasted better than your salty body
at sunrise, blinding as the mango rum
Painkillers we drank too many of.

Things changed, I moved to Maine. The reef, 
the fish, shrank to pictures in A Field Guide 
to the Caribbean, boxed in my attic. Global heat 
made our undersea Eden a bleached coral cemetery. 

I remember how the Night-blooming Cereus 
astonished us, a cactus that blossoms once a year
for a few hours. I wonder what’s left. And
what, like that succulent, might again flower?