His gutting of me,
fishlike
a hook at the end of his finger
(curling)
& me
bare skinned at
his knees
the nakedness of
a child
innocent lines
& curves of
flesh. My
gapping thighs
withered
beyond the
cure of ***
& tone
death girls
place shells
to their ears
to hear the
roar of the
sea. A mighty
whitewashed
wave crashing
against the
shore
& in that
moment I
am shaking
on the end
of a line
at the
mercy of
the devouring
hands of
a man