Fish and Shushan

I bit into a farmstand cherry
with a crack in her skin
she had split herself open
with desire to touch
her other skin

her plumpness her bruises
proclaim 'I am real
I may be touched
I am not a statue
on an altar to be worshipped'

this is the thought that makes
me lose my breath

my lungs fill
they still go in and out
I continue living
but it's a life without breath

and in this quiet place
where she roars softly
into my ear like a cat
in controlled heat
my words break down
and sputter
into words into
become dots
floating across
a deep blue sky