cycling through high humidity
moisture glides along skin and throat
I gape like rainbow trout
believing I can circumvent the need to drink
and let osmosis take what’s needed

I wish I can take more from the air
swallow hateful shouts and protests
filter fear and insecurity through gasping gills
leave trauma and neglect as shit
on the asphalt behind my wheels

if I return your stifled empathy as soft
scaly pecks, would it be enough for you
to revert back to unfiltered youth
that marveled at iridescent fins
and believed in borderless oceans

Phineas Knowles obtained his MA in Creative and Critical Writing at the University of Winchester. He’s a Moth StorySLAM winner and editor with Zig Zag Lit Mag. He writes primarily short stories and poetry. His poem “Fern Feather” was nominated for the 2023 Pushcart Prize. A Vermont resident, Phineas enjoys reading, cycling, hiking, playing harp, and meeting anyone’s pet.