Swim

Gretchen Johnsen

the fish girl comes
with eyes like sea-
grapes     gives us each
a little mask
of gills     she is the dream
of multiples
and we escape
                          Somewhere a fish
is frozen in the cell
of immobility, one final leap
unfinished: this is hell, the memories
as thick as honey. We can see
it all, but it is finished. My
beloved, I can almost

Jesus dies
and we all swim away.

 

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