Girl at Bottom, AliveI tried calling out for you
& out of my mouth falls 20 lbs of titanium the shape of a ship at full mast It’s not that I’m having trouble speaking I seem to be doing this quite fine But when it comes to you, my lungs are small plums floating up to the base of my throat A calm cold thrills my legs I am impelled to run, as fast as a hand self-consciously to one’s windblown hair A small fish eye gleams reflective Scales the color of split gums I fashion myself a new skin of ore & baroque pearls Admire myself in the bioluminescent belly of a monster Slowly, my weight descends without disturbance & I know this will not last Body as slab, I carve with an angler’s tooth: [ ] was here The hook dangling before me bloats miraculous It cannot stifle it’s husky cackle But it has been made a fool I cradled it hard inside my cheek until my tongue was warm with gold What else would you expect
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