Monday, 24 April 2017


Sharks, my love, are old. Older than
trees or flying bugs. There were sharks

before there ever were flowers.
It is hard to tell how ancient, because

sharks’ skeletons are not made of bone.
They are more like noses, &

when noses die, there are no nose fossils.
There are only holes.

It is hard to date a hole.

Sharks, my love, have no ribs, &
a shark on land will crush itself.

A heart exploded under the weight
of history and a whole body.

Sometimes the past is like that: sometimes
heavy & sometimes just a hole
        where a nose had been.

It is not hard to date a shark.

We leave teeth behind, my love,
so check your own ribcage. 

You are printed with fossils: last night,
last weekend, February 5th.

You are your own history now.

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