Requiem for the Devil Fish

And, so, glide, glide:
an unfriendly light, a garden
of strange suns may snare you,
only, your true brightness breathes
within; drawing air to gills,
dream to sustenance.
I pray you never leave, oh purest:
with your great choir of teeth,
your immaculate silence.
Night will always win you, and soon,
us two, together.
Nothing to surface, nothing to sky,
imprimatur, blackness of bliss.

Meg Smith is a poet, writer, journalist, dancer and events producer living in Lowell, Mass. Her poems have appeared in The Cafe Review, Pudding, Poetry Bay,The Horror Zine, Silver Blade, Raven Cage, The Blue Hour Anthology, and many more.

Her short fiction collection The Plague Confessor is available at her online store! megsmithwriter.com

Her most recent poetry books, Pretty Green Thorns, Night's Island, This Scarlet Dancing and Dear Deepest Ghost, are available on Amazon.

Find more by Meg Smith in the Author Index.