Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsFall 2015  Vol. 14 No. 2
an online journal of literature and the arts
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Sea Anemone

All mouth. This
has always been my problem—

body named for an earthy flower,
rooted foot in the coral bed.

Look below the surface, you can see
how fear began to live with me—

a hundred fish turning suddenly
as though a single silver flank had heaved.

This is what happens when touch
stings. I spend my nights

holding fury and spit. Somewhere above
air is free, there’s the pull of moon’s gold

lip, there’s a smirk that grows
until it swallows you whole.

I wish I could accept
what has passed through me—

a rush of cooler water
stirred by rays, dust sloughed

from a shark’s fin. I wasn’t made to walk
away. I am the creature that stands

and sings into the miles of water—
Say you can hear my raw throat,

salt tongue, my heartless bell.  end  

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