Fogdog

After Fishbone 2012 by Rosita McKenzie

My anxiety (zero visibility)
forks into fire.

Bounced across satellites, your voice
volleys through my fever.

I repent for no end of vices.
A small craft is easy to overturn.

From an ocean boiling with omens
one spirit breaks away, sweeps upward.

Your light your lightning your likeness
revealed then dissolved.

Your wreck under the waves
becomes many gods.