she loved the feeling
of something warm, life!
gracing her neck
full of stars but
the stars have been dead
for a million years;
to have her neck touched
by you, who, in your perfect
matter of gray and white scales,
seem to believe you know
the way she bends water.
a mouth full of grass
an appendix given purpose
tasting the raw meat
you have devoured.
not quite tangible
she comes to you
to have you touch her neck
to bless it with her
not-quite-tangible humors
it is a humorous bath
she hath buried herself in
and not-quite-tangible,
she escapes from your
bloodied jowls.
mother! he has given me
frankincense and myrrh.
oh, it is beautiful!
it is holy.
oh, mother.
why have you uglied yourself
with valleys of contortion?
daughter! (horror)
a cardinal is
hanging
from
your
neck.
and not-yet-tangible
she slips away
back to the ocean
where the salt will
grace her neck
until the flesh is consumed
by things smaller than you
or maybe she would look
to be alive like the stars
and so, the next time
you consume electrolytes
remember this salt,
and the way it washed
my cardinal wound;
until i became a part
of the crystal lattice
and you would
swim
___________________f________________
to find that lovely promise that was
not-yet-not-quite
tangible.