I am fishcaught
mouthhooked
(I should have learned to keep mine shut)
on the barbed bits of you
that have always,
always
lured me.
Now I gasp,
out of of breath,
suffocating in your grasp.
Only I couldn’t bear it
if you let me go.
You caught me —
now it’s your responsibility
to hold on,
until it’s over,
one way
or another.
I’ll learn to walk on land,
or I’ll lay down
and die on it.
Just so long as I’m near you,
I don’t mind.
I Don’t Mind
