Amphibian

 

A human outline holding more

than the body can endure:

elasticity that threatens

to snap

like a drum.

 

There are no words for this

need need need

need. Put your hand on my chest,

drain the liquid tar

before it clasps my lungs.

Lie on me. Crush the colony

that feasts. Tranquilize me,

inhale the silent storm

and let me hang empty

clouds over tomorrow.

 

Let me float through daylight hours

a ghost of yesterday,

cells vibrating

like bronze bells

after the sound has subsided.

 

When dusk comes

I will strip my clothes

and dive

into a cool pond,

water sliding

over closed lids.

I will swim

to the other shore

and emerge amphibian,

my rubber skin glistening.