by Seth Jani
Leave your golden earrings in the sea.
Your bones too; bracken-hued, decanted.
Tuck your soul out of reach
in the pelagic shadows.
There’s no luck in drowning.
You are not a shiny penny.
No wishes were made. No fallen star
resulted in your body.
I will not love a single, silent thing
hauled out of that darkness.
You will not be kissed or forgiven.
The fire feeds. The sea consumes
its equal share.
From the subduction zone
there is an image golden
as the ghosts of immolated soldiers.
Our lives burn. We leave the bridge.
We toss ourselves over the horizon.
We fall cruciform into the reflected brightness.
We provoke the god of fish.
Seth Jani lives in Seattle, WA, and is the founder of Seven CirclePress (www.sevencirclepress.com). Their work has appeared in The American Poetry Journal, Chiron Review, Rust+Moth, and Pretty Owl Poetry, among others. Their full-length collection, Night Fable, was published by FutureCycle Press in 2018. More about them and their work can be found at www.sethjani.com.