© 2003 mykl g sivak.
The Christmas Jellyfish
I have been told I shall be free,
when autumn nights are blurred by snow
or December afternoons soaked with rain.
when winter nights are pierced by bundled light-
red-blue-green-silver-
she will become the sacrificial lamb-
heart pierced- soul torn
like old dry silk.
my soul is all mesh-
more emptiness than substance
like that which divides the jellyfish from the water-
and the ocean from the land-
the atmosphere from atmosphere-
child from man.
with a mouth full of diamonds,
she’ll drop from that bridge-
plummet to the river
and drift to the ocean-
beneath a nighttime winter sky
and the cold bronze orange light
of some old and dirty city.
I’ve been told that in the end
my shackles will be broken,
and my back will be crooked
and I’ll spend Christmas eve all alone
because she sank into the ocean
I’ll walk
down suburban roads
bulbs piercing blackness
like the light of a soul
bleeding out, staining
melting snow and the edges
of reflections will become
like a brown of light
muddled with darkness
The world will be satisfying
and empty; more nothing
than something
While everyone else rests
Invisible indoors
My tired flesh will hum infrared
All the bioluminescence of
A deep-sea jelly
Glowing like a Christmas candle
Wet eyes reflecting their own
Inner light.
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