Milk Fish

A body undulates in the shallows,
glass hive prosperous with bones.

This is the way debts multiply:
one branch growing into a tree.

I too want to break with the past
without choking on its filaments.

But the throat is a white-lit tunnel,
silvery measure that drops into the bay.

What does a line etch beyond two
points? Blue beginning. Blue end.


In response to Via Negativa: Oligarch.

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