Fishhook
the child watched the light reflect in the water
to cling to the promise of a second sun turning
everything imperceptible in its haze,
to watch the fish and feel envious of their quick escapes–
slick and elusive and good as any body could hope to be
the man hid in the shadow cast by his own self
to search for relief from the stares that pierce like needles,
to find the water not as warm as he had hoped
and the bed’s floor much lower than he had thought,
where bones give way to mud
the body flinched from the shadows overhead
to feel the slice of the reeds against skin,
to taste the tang of chemicals and algae,
to hear the choking of the plants–
a final desperation before the end
the man crawled out of the waters
to know that every step there was another fish hook
to bury into the skin,
to see his reflection painted in blues once more
and beg forgiveness