remake me as a fish,
this time,
let the knife calluses on
your fingers catch on the edges
of my iridescent scales as you
tenderly place them,
one by one
peel back my eyelids
to gently place shiny
river stones, polished smooth,
into empty eye sockets
and i do not fear the
knife with the curved end,
this time, as you open the
tender skin along my neck
on either side into fluttering gills
dunk your arms into the water
until it kisses the ends of your
worn shirtsleeves, and let me
loose to swim among the lily
pads, burrow into silty lake bed
and i’ll wait for you there,
letting the gentle lapping of the
lake against the rocky shore
lull me into sweeter dreams
maybe you’ll shed that second skin,
one of these days,
remake yourself in your own image,
just this once
and though the hook tugs,
buried in the meat of my inner cheek,
i know this is also a gift
and i won’t come out of the
water in a hail of droplets and
red, red, blood, thrashing and
choking on the fresh air
nay, this wild thing that lurks
behind my breastbone has been
worn away to make room for
how the sun looks arcing out across
the waters, how the knife calluses
on your fingers feel on my scales,
and how gentle you are with every part
of me, even those that still catch sometimes,
as you remove the hook from the
meat of my inner cheek and watch as
i slip back beneath the waves