water running dry

he kissed me much like that of a dying fish —
vapid, cold eyes, 
pungent body desperately flouncing about 
in the hopes 
that something significant might occur.

November 2009, Edgewater Park, Mount Vernon, Washington

spear in hand,
I deftly killed the fish
without so much as blinking. I
pierced the most tender part of him
and watched his existence fade out.
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