Seductive seal skin is my coat – zippered for ease of removal; I slip in and out of worlds both human and mystical praying that one day my skin knots to backbone, binds as spines to published pages completing the bleary badge of a true, life-worn selkie: for I am no myth, nor fairytale fancy.

A pebble dropped will displace its own volume of water. Observers, concerned only with measuring volume, don’t care about the separated water or the guilt of the pebble.

…eyes on my skin, small hellos and howeyas in smoking areas and bathroom queues / imagined passengers in passing cars feel like scalpel incisions – the flaying of a beast. I crumple into nothing under floodlights of sight.

start with a bruised body and the wrong knife, take a hound’s eye: follow the pierce and spatter, little globules seething as red thumbs dig to outrun the decay.

After all, who wouldn’t rather fractions over fractures?