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Fisherman
February 24, 2018
Hands slightly tan
Smooth like plastic
They’re part of you
For me
They were weapons
You were a fisherman
I, a lifeless fish
Laying on a black futon land
You used your hands
Gutted me
Digging for treasure
Finding nothing but an opportunity
You used your fingers for pleasure
Your fingers were hooks
Scraping against my scales
I said it hurts
Please stop
But all you said was I’m sorry
And continued to scrape off the meat I no longer had
You used me
For treasure
An opportunity for pleasure
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