Coping With the Load

Who knew these things could be reversed?

Alive and well, I decided such

As I felt the scales slip through my palms.

The Border: Canada and Alaska.

Ice river, sheet of glass flowing under the belly.

Iron and wood,

Glossed,

A belly of iron and wood.

Did you see it?

Men like your father,

They captured hysteria in a net

And it came from the sea.

the glossy gray ocean vomited hysteria into thick ropes

And there was thrashing and screaming as gills fanned clockwork steady.

I got my hands dirty.

Stressed and tearful, I touched them.

Each body squirming,

Sighing as my hands felt every scale,

Every fin,

Sighing as I stroked every scale.

Then I found what I was looking for:

A pink tinted fish silver with mirror scales,

Reflecting the clouds and the gray.

My fingers went out to it, and its eyes spun as I slipped a finger into its gill.

I held a piece of hysteria in my hands,

And I was chocking it to death.

I will have order.

To the edge of the boat, I stepped endearingly,

And the guardrail truly did not exist in its metallic sheen.

I was breathing fish skin blades,

And blood was gathering in my throat.

As blood gathered, I swallowed and held hysteria to my breast.

It made a weak attempt to struggle against my clenching hands.

And below the no-sun sky, I saw the world double.

Sky above, sky below.

Rippling mirrors of icy flow.

Tripled in the scales of my stress in those ropes,

Writhing,

Multiplied by mirrors...

I knelt by the edge below the guardrail

And gave the fish one last squeeze,

Unsure if it was alive or dead.

Head-first, I returned it to the dark water.

A weight off my hands.

A/N: Hmm some stanza separation problems. Oh well, I hope it didn't disrupt the flow for anyone.