for J.
Think fairy fly, think
small wasp digging with her legs
through a water’s skin.
Think wings, think fringed
and beautiful. Think
of the thing done
by the boy that cannot be
undone. Think swim,
think down, think
of the paddles, which are really
wings, which are really
beautiful. And the thing done
by the boy that cannot be
undone. Think of the eggs
she is looking for—the eggs
of the water beetle into which
she will insert her own.
Think of the boy, think
of the thing done by the boy,
think of the boy undone
by rage, undone
by its rising, rage undoing
what he thought he knew
of his mind, to undo that
of another. Think of the thing
done to a boy that cannot be
undone. Think of the eggs
which are not her eggs
which will become her own.
Wings, fringed
and beautiful. Think of her
exiting, think of her
climbing a stem, waterweed
perhaps, without which
she would be unable
to lift her body
back into air. Think
of the boy, the beautiful boy.
Think of a thing done
that cannot be undone.