numbers, please click here)
fins proud and ragged,
filtering the oceans apart
until shimmer-hooked and then flopping in boat bottoms,
when gills heave, gasp, drowning in air; eyes glaze like dropped
marbles, clouded and cracked, but holding.
you pass her
and you both will know
you are young and raw, half-bitten,
spitten in disgust like fruit picked before its season.
on the trees,
a reverse whirlwind
and an impossible sunset
seeking their origins, the life from whence they came.