I brewed us lunch crustacean as whether. Ever as santoku and a neckless spoon, all grips melting to bluefin. You collapsed your crane legs in soup and I cobbled in blankets-- curled a velour, all ellipses of valves and your upstairs shark of an elbow. I could fit in the hole of a lotus root like any swollen koi, any taro gumming a pulmonary. You know it’s aortic, how plastic forks to fleece. How the ceiling coils round a fan like the dragon I am. Once belly, once gauntlet, and how retractive the claw. How comma I blot, how easy the quote and the playback loop, the from and the season, and the reptile scale of a spoon.