WHETHER BECAUSE of the water
or the waves furrowed like the brows
of a father
WHETHER BECAUSE of the clam
shells in our mouths shut & torn
apart for her
WHETHER BECAUSE we watched the wasps bleed
wedding red our tongues
craving meat
OR BECAUSE of the whimpering
mythology
of hungry ghosts
I do not know how to be
a hunger ghost.
Only a hungry one.
Only how to devour & starve
in alternating months.
DREAMING the ocean ate me.
DREAMING I ate the ocean —
my gut bacteria phytoplankton
my intestines full of trash
swollen and complete
I was wicked and small in my
past life
How much did I eat of myself to survive?
They say
"each bite chewed must also be contemplated"
where it grew, breathed, shit, dreamed
desperate dreams, repaired delicate machinery
of mastbones & skinblades
They say
"the tongue, it tastes the best"
so I cut off half and
gave it to the ocean.