the fisherman’s song of despair

una cancion desesperada or oncorhyncus mykiss

by aaron abeyta

in my trout dream
you are twin to the dawn
the pearl of your belly
that is the sky in the

brief breaths    the moments
of sunless light    a wash of pink
guazing at the center of you
ghosting away at your caudal edges

and in the human chamber
of my heart where it
hilts up against the primal
and the uncharted

i assume that on the fifth day
God had grown weary and therefore
created you to perfect
the domes and orbits that preceded you

so that every possible
sky might be foretold
there upon
your wet body

this shadowless light
milks its white breath
against the river    and there
in the riffles and the deep pools

the trout queue themselves
in a braid of shadows
they are the movement of dreams
what man looked upon when he created music

randomly
consistently as the slow dreams
where i hold you
i remember that the phoenicians

had an alphabet
the egyptians    written words
but neither was blessed enough to
have written your name    to have

held you in the God light of dawn
and what of that fourth chamber
the one whose room
has flooded and is yours

the dead trees along the river
have forgotten what they are
everything is part wish
part shadow    this indescribable light

of madrugada rubbing itself
against this river    and i should not have
touched you    and because of you
dreamt of rain or a slope of trees or

a moonlit snowstorm or a ribbon
of stars landed and touchable
your body a constellation
to my wishes

spilling back into the river
toward the secret spot of the human body
the haunt of you
barely there in my hand

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