Suddenly I was air. Skinned, sublimated
like mist lifting from a frozen stream, I watched
you rape a river.
My consciousness hung
on a hairsbreadth chain, barely anchored
to time and life. Blood roared
as it pushed in and fell
back, becoming the sound of absence, cricket-song
superimposed on deep space’s silence. The stars twisted
and staying put took effort. I made myself
willing to watch you thrash and spasm
in my river, while I mouthed
a lullaby like a hook. Hush.
Then something snapped, then something exited, and it pulled
me as violently as the Earth pulls lightning
towards its own heart. I was on my back, eyes open,
spread over stones.
Submission — to what, I don’t know —
condensed in me, flipping
like a fish soon out of water. I lifted
up a shaking hand, I pressed
it to my chest, and I claimed
myself, again, as my own.