fishnets ~ Ella Kindt

I wade knee deep in dreams of little venial 

sins: brine sticking 

     to hips lying to     sheeps

head      plucking

scales   stick to thigh

slip cut finger oyster beds for pear

  nail 

necklace of flounder gig 

stay salt suspended caught 

in four prong noose until     breathing

plastic

pressing 

in.

I surface at the fishhouses, thighs wrapped 

in cast net, cut open, descaled, cord grass 

cushions two hands at work.