Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Naked As A Fish

I was an island.
A dumb howl
sinking in waves and shells.
A lapped-sore body
smelling of tongues and teeth
and tails.
A lonely
vomit of lava
slow to cool,
quick to anger.
Yes,
I could remember love
and the way the sun
would freckle my back
as I stood on the ferry.
The marks are still there.
Can you see them,
right below my bra straps?
The trips to Boliver,
in search of crabs
and wings.
The men and their eyes
glaring at me
on the roof deck.
It didn’t matter that August
was long and worried,
a dress bent brown,
like a rotten flag
hanging for all to see.
I was their lighthouse,
flickering for the hungry masses,
spreading myself open,
naked as a fish.