Quietude
(buried next to emily lies cloe the fish)
all that's left are eyes lashing
through words tangled in pages
trapped between book covers
titles long forgotten
to a fin
yes, 'a freedom is born'
. . . to others, to some
a notion
of what could have been
. . . an equivocal dream
after air becomes water
. . . silence.
gypsy (inhaling chicken wings)