Saccharine

Saccharine

⥿

flashes of pink and silver

with their scary fucking mouths

captured from fresh water

skin left intact

vacuum-sealed

this one

marinated too long

sitting on a kitchen throne

of lemon peels

and crumpled paper

inside polyethylene

In its previous life

it engaged

in parallel play

and I bought it on sale

to engage

in quiet sentimentality

trying to reproduce

the air fried golden trout

we had for brunch that Saturday

but I failed

Kokanee pilsner,

empty amber bottles

build a dilapidated home

in the recycling bin

and our sleepy words

bring us

to your full-sized bed

my flesh of pink and

your skin left intact

inside polyurethane

trying not to reproduce

and we don’t fail

and we play it safe

and we self-sabotage

we don’t engage

and we parallel play

and we mirror

what we think the other wants

and we drink too much

or none at all

and why recreate something

that tasted mild to begin with?

even if it contained

the flavor of the sun

sometimes

why not swim away

before the sunrise

before

we become

stifled

acidic

saccharine

or waste this

. . . . . . . . . . . . .