Last night. On my back in water. Near the beach that we went to years ago. Before dawn and the purple autumn curdles. Pines rupture gloom like the points of a saw. Warmth dissolves and a memory re-opens. Fingertips flinch from an unstitched wound. Rags of flesh. Soft drumming of heartbeat. I try to scream but I can’t even moan. My brain hooked. I’m pulled to a jetty. I see someone else. Painted nails on her bump. Creak of wire. Slowing clicks of a fishing reel. Someone laughs. Moonlight coils on your club.

between your lips all shadow and starlight
eyes flicker
like fires on a reef

David Alcock