I am waiting for you.
I have been swimming all morning through the deep
and not eaten.
I am lurking at the bottom of the deep
near the dusty floor that sweeps on endlessly.
I am ravenous, it is midday, I found no fish.
I am very fierce without food and although my fins
can only carry me so far
you must believe I am prepared to dive.
What do you think of me?
I am silent like a forgotten ghost.
I am sly with open gills
like the slit of a deep wound.
I prowl as an aerodynamic bolt of energy
like a plane through the sky.
I skulk, I loiter, I glide, I am a ranger.
I flick my fins. I eat the dead.
Do you like me?
When the moon pours hard and cold on the waves
I lurk, and I am the slave of darkness.
Over the sharp rocks and the dull sand and the ruined places
and the corals, the moonlight falls.
I catch the trace of blood. I snarl. My skin is silver.
I raise my jaws to the moon.
Would you meet me there in the relentless current?
It is said I am a good match
for a creature below me. I put my jaws
around its tiny scales, and swallow. It
is my raw supper, but my tastes are easy.
I have a crowd of fangs, and I use them.
Oh and my tail – do you like me
when it comes crashing through the water
very vigorous, and I am remorseless?
I am not remorseless.
But I am not merciful either, only
impassive enough to survive, showing you
what I grip
I am waiting
for the tails to flicker,
for the scales to glint,
for the shoal to separate,
for the fight to the death to be fought to the death,
for a glassy eye and the rumour of blood.
I am stowed away in my dingy shadows
till you are ready for me.
My place is to pick you clean
and leave your bones to the waves.