The Fish

I dreamt red. where i was swallowed by a giant fish with purple eyes and the frame of the bed was rattling against my elbows and i was crying... "don't leave" but I left you. touching the scar by my left eye, you carved a greater scar than all the rest while that you cured. Let sleeping dreams lie, you said, but I'll be forever looking for your smile in her eyes. And so I cried. For you I was that little girl. Someone no one else knows as you know. And for them I will forever deny. Not your woman, not your little girl, no, not I, by the bedframe in the night. Isn't it surprising how words and phrases associated with a former flame become so sacred that to repeat such affirmations is to betray? The fish was asking me before it swallowed me whole. And I told it the red was delicious. that raw was delicious. and if it grew a tail I would gladly suck it and if it grew teats I would gladly milk it with my thighs.


Copyright © 2005 by HrJ