This tall fish of water bought me a drink,
settled his mouth around my hook
and said, "pull."
I tugged, curious.
He flopped aboard, shining, vulnerable,
gasping, open and bleeding from the mouth,
and I panicked. I tossed him back.
You see? Please pardon.
He glides by me now, aloof, with a little scar
from where my hook dug.
like a bear I want him back.
I lure and beckon, ready to
really kill it,
but I fear it is too late, fishies.
Pardon the metaphor.
It elides the truth.
So many times by the yoke of my fearful life
I have scared off something gentle.
Yes.
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