fish

The Fish that Swims Beneath my Skin

(poem in the shape of a fish)

The fish

that swims

beneath my skin,

Shall be ever swimming there,

Will ripple past my bumpy ribs,

With sideways skull and gaping gills,

Will pass and go, small bones and all,

Will hide within my soft, wet mouth,

Swim down my legs with lashing tail.

What ever other fish comes in,

It shall not chase this fish away.

It’ll be there ‘til the night I die,

And even on its own sad death,

Float to my jutting hip and sleep.