Saltwater Topography
Treacherous current, emboldened
by force and time, has carved
a new stream.
My ugly red lion-
fish swims from stomach
to lungs—sheds its spines
—turns blue.
In my chest there are fewer
river mouths which speak
of flint and steel and forgiveness,
more lakes
in which to drown.
That which once burned
has been washed to ash.
By the delta,
in a cabin of damp wood,
I stand under the ceiling
leak.