D: A Fish Story
mark reynolds
Your seasputum tail kicks up the sand,
dodging the leather tidal wave--
and your feline gaze melts the air
blurring your edges like rained-on pastels--
But I cannot swim
and cats make me sneeze
and I cringe at the mention of “Mauuve . . .”
Still you dance on my face with your doverace grace
And your liquid lines make me crave a beer, or just to have you near.
Do fireflies light Virginia skies?
Do you think it odd
that I step on lightning bugs,
to enjoy the glow of their guts?
Is my face misplaced in your pupils?
Do I keep a glance too long?
The stars are but flint-and-steel sparks, dull.
I can smell you when I sleep,
and I think of you over coffee or muzak,
and in your octopus arms
I’m sure I would feel
like a desert fish.
