song of the fish

I. 

today, I almost crushed the fish.

dumping them into a bowl,

their rocks came plunging

onto them: they wriggled in

breathless ecstasy, gills

frantic with escape and air.

today,

rocks crush heavy

on my fragile chest too—I heave

in haggard breaths, but the

pressing is real,

the sky a torn grey, the wind

cutting dangerous into soft white

flesh.

II.

visions of future

terrify me homewards,

drag black onto

trembling hands,

call for silence,

a deep and solemn lament. 

forgive me, lord, for I have sinned:

I have tasted forbidden pomegranates,
juicy with lust, purple apathy
streaking my fingers,
running hard onto naked
chest.

I have eaten sweet honey,
coating my lips with
luke-warm love--
it leaves only
heady salt thick
on my tongue.

I have been merry and drunk
with empty promises,
careless chatter,
lilting laughter.

I have eaten and drinken my fill,
I have come up empty. 

bless us, father.

III.

my soul is longing to burst away;

tight skin keeps it

gripped--

I wriggle inwards,

gasping for life,

for the freedom water brings.

baptize me anew in fresh

tap, please. no more heavy

stuff to crush small

gills, make me flop silly

dances around the

wide, dark unknown.

life in a fish-tank

is hard enough already.