Love Letter to an Octopus

Love Letter to an Octopus

I’m here

in the hot, carpeted dark,

chubby palms greasing glass.

The fibers that create your pulp

curl through murky aquarium light.

You move like velvet.

 

I want to be still, very still.

Quiet, too, quiet enough to

hear your obsidian beak

chip my skull.

Bury yourself into

my soul

and suck out the sweet meat.