“See,” said the psychiatrist with the orange peel lips
As he pressed violet velvet against my eyes
And patted my flapping limbs like he was clipping feathers
From the wings of swans. “You silly goose.”

My teeth, hospital white and gleaming syringe sharp
While saliva welled from glands we couldn’t find, clenched
As we cocked our heads towards the rattle from the uncharted
Waters of his pocket, his hand fishing while his finger tips
Waded through foreign territory locked in crystal caplets.

Once they surfaced(bells chiming like judgment day),
My tongue wound its way from between that pleasantly
Peppermint-numb grotto of mouth, halibut-formed and my
Eyes scale-bright, glistening like the shaved dead skin
Of some aquatic ancient. He paddled toward me with the water
For my lungs- pill shaped and dull. “This will give you gills.”

I gaped in gratitude, lips parting in a liar’s kiss,
As I felt my beak melt away like Icarus’ wax.
He grinned, forehead pale while his clown cheeks glowed.
“I can make you a fish.”