A Fish's Last Supper

        I have bitten
        and been bitten

        Swallowed
        this cold communion

Your slow dancer


        Sent sliding
        through soft circles

        And settling
        in my sights.

This is the body

        The marionette
        appendage

        New flesh
        surrounding
        your skeletal snare

        The sinew
        struggling and I
        the twitching transplant.

I too will dance

        Strung out
        and stumbling

        'Til the hook
        drags me off

        Belching wine
        with every tortured bow.

This is the blood

        Filling my mouth
        and floating away

        Falling like flowers
        that bloom and decay.