Squid

A Poem by dukovan

Again with aged dramatics, that attach too quickly to the sides of my vessel. Climactic reasons otherwise, would engrave tallies of a prisoner who was more free in hindsight. These wishes made on the chimes count backwards for echoed eternities. Likewise I am still twiddling my thumbs for the hope of friction, and for inklings of more paper to burn.

As the giant squid could likely determine, there is no new reason to breach. The sailors are content in their mystery for the night and have had their dinner. Tomorrow the masts will be raised and their eyebrows will gesture, their fore-bodies tangled in pleasure of homecooked meals and wives. I am meanwhile whittling sticks I've gathered from ports, as if to impress the nature of nature itself.

Content has stirred our hearts unlike complacence.

Me and my brothers have sharpened our teeth for the battle of knots, and of who can stomach the most salty breaths

before we have to give back a mermaids broken heart. But before we can capsize we must swallow our pride and feel our words razor down our throats, right before they soften, like seaweed.

Before our legends spew arrogance, before our brides tire of our misguided duties, we must remember it is a round planet we live on.

Our aquatic beaks can penetrate water like glass, and flight holds no bounds so yes, I will wax my way into the candles embrace, like a blind moth to fireless flame.