Lovebog Ii Poem by Morgan Michaels

Eels will peer shyly from your skull
carps will nuzzle mosses off your bones.
Over all the pink sands recompose
the stoma closes, neater than a mirror's
the water baits itself with glints and glimmers
Artful, evil, undetected snare!
Quicker, really, than a toad's tongue
the foggy sea has plucked off from its front
spar-clutchers, castaways, men set adrift-
now you see themm, now you don't
and in the briney angle of its arm
clippers ravished like a fuming Dis
now they bloom weirdly in the ooze
or creep before the gently shepherding tides.
But totalled, these are few-none practically
stars discerned with just the naked eye
beside the lone, un-numbered, countless troves
that tumble, dizzy, from the banks of Love.