The Squid
2007

Canoe the waves of your lips,
last kiss the one rite
I’d have taken.
Urged to dive, I swim deep for purpose
and the hope that a true monster lies
in wait
to reflect the greater dangers
cracking Earth harder than my fists.

Red tentacles thrust out in dance to will me
into the blackness of darkness,
all fable and blue light crossed with spindles
to woo me away from the business
of plenty.
My lengthy disposition
beyond shadows of doubt,
Those lips, the surface, a bend
for my touch.