Leviathan
Looking up at you through squid ink,
The eyeglass of the drowning,
It’s hard to tell if this storm is
The child of your eyelash
Or the secret of their lids,
Darkening the haemorrhage salt.
Perhaps it’s indebted to
Asphyxia, the breathless
Liquids of Leviathan,
Drawing out beasts with the
Hook in its gill; where seeing
And drowning can only be parted
By the wideness of your eyes in
The rain.
