The Archivist

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Fingers cut off. Remember? Resting in coral –


eyes: underwater tablets. Sailors thought you were drunk.

Black shoes buried a boar wearing
tooth necklace.

Imagine: our teeth – shark, pipefish. Back arched in stairs, I offer wet grass
to the sky. It rained, but we kept from weeping.

Someone asked about evolution.

We named whales! Molokai,

turtle armies forming
the shape of
Saturn, their bellies touching ours.

You were reaching to touch my leg, instead a

rusted anchor made me drunk and

you are