We had just moved into a small apartment at the bottom of the ocean.
"I'd just like to go over some household expectations," you announced. "For instance, I expect you to clean the jellyfish out of the pipes. Also if we spring a leak I expect you to let me die first as I don't think I could handle drowning down here alone."
I nodded, this all sounded pretty reasonable.
"In return," you said, "I'll cook fish you catch. Healthy-looking ones at least. And I won't complain about how long the commute is by submarine."
That night we made love by the light of the anglerfish. It was a hassle that I'd need to pick up oxygen tanks every day until the algae farm started working, but the moon sure looked pretty nice reflected in the water's surface.
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3 comments:
don't think i haven't read it. iread everything you write[ at least on this blog] and i am always glad to see new work.
Are they stinging jellyfish or moon jellyfish? Because that would matter.
:: nice poetry , i write bits of poetry along with my art work to emphasise it , never really tried to do a long poem before ::
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