Where Fish Live

Salt folds into the silver scales
of the passing fish as they flee into
the washing blue like the night
the war broke out
and we fled into our homes
as men fought in the bigger picture of things
and you told me we were to hide in the dark
and your finger was to your lips
and you made the sound of the wind
pushing the water from it's place
to stir the kelp and the silver fish
that follow its pattern
"follow me now,"
I saw your eyes were filling with salt
the stinging kind where fish live
and we traveled into the dark blue night
and others ran past until we ran alone
until only the moon was there
as it reflects just so
on the shifting silver fish
praying in the white coral
for day to come
for a current to pull them
to anywhere else.

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