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you cannot eat a koi fish

‘ you cannot eat a koi fish ’

 

chipped brown bridge. wide koi pond.

river water floats, brimming blushing

copper pennies. metal draws the sun

down between the green-gold ripples

on the water’s surface. honey-pink bellies

float, soft and feathered, just beneath.

a wildflower skyline braces the brown

mountains, tipping gold hands toward

sun-stained tops. something soft moves

in the rosy wind as brown-haired girls float.

running. fast-beating hearts. a copper-

yellow field.

 

crimson water burnt out red. swallow, don’t swallow

            crochet lips     cold blue

 

one of them cuts across the grass.

over water. her bright blushing cheeks shine

in the golden light, melting sunny freckles

on her nose as she bowls through the

soft rose wind. pressing gold between the

shallow waves. she points her body toward

the sun, lets the light peel the shrunken words from her soft honey chest; gold

leaves sprout from her open hands, crowning beneath her fingernails as

she tips her honey hands

toward shining mountain tops.

 

puckered fish               needle in the eye         swallow me swallow me

            sew                  my own eyes                shut.

 

hands in the water, a lily pad stuck to the

edges of her palm. honeysuckle glue.

sweet body                              soft eyes

crescent fingers                       curl,

a body             caught             inside.

 

river koi body / broad bloated swollen gouged / stolen child / of some other place / ocean islands

twined / kamikaze straits—

 

you cannot eat

a koi fish. a seine

is not used for

this, only

my hands.

 

only hands       raw.

eyes                 cavernous.

fingernails       salient.

                        cuspidate.

                        tapering, keen.

 

dirt beneath scales      purple green, muddy

black blue

almost a sponge, sucking the earth up into its amphibious body, bones, cropped brain, muscle, vesicle.

blood in the grass        fish guts, open in the

                                    mud. mingling. earth.

stone. dirt. rock

against rock sharp,

thin; shank born of

bloodthirst, of

meekness, weakness.

of power-     lessness.

 

lifting a hand, finger to her blush toned mouth, she               sucks, swallows.

            fish breath.

            ugly thing, ugly

            girl.

eat me, she said. eat me raw. open. bloody.

            rotten               my body will swell

bloated gouged                       fold my body

            into your mouth          swallow me

            whole.

Red Glare

"When Pat told me the story of the house, it felt shattered. The story had ruptured inside of her, a thing punctured and bled. Broken in all the ways a thing can be. I had wondered if there were parts of it that she couldn’t remember. Maybe some things she had blocked out, or been erased, or things she had been spared. Perhaps there is no whole, undissected story. A house is a house is a house, until it isn’t."

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