I have seen you as fishmongers
in an effort to forget. Twelve of them
selling thick pearls of meat.
All of them are you. Headless
as prawn. Bass filleted & frozen, muscle
grey as dusk. I know what it is like
to lie naked across ice, feel flesh slice.
I pretend to know.
I want to know what you passed into my mouth
as you slid upward, chest first. I remember a fisherman
unloading his boat. Herring packed
into a tackle box, snug bodies. Eyes slick,
glossy. Their silver is something I want to ingest.
I bite their eyelids softly, pull them shut.
There is nothing here
that I want to remember as fact. It is a fact
that every person believes they are more than a god.
That is the part of me you harpooned. Cut your name into.