Page 114 - Dark Matter Women Witnessing

Susan Richardson

Tope

Imagine smelling more

than that drop of blood

in the water

a quarter of a mile away;

more than location, source,

and readiness for sex or eating.

Imagine smelling dolphins' one-eyed sleep,

seastars' tube feet,

the hubris of scuba.

Imagine two nasal tracts,

undistracted by breathing.

Imagine smelling the creeping acidity of sea,

tiny shelled terrors,

chemical errors in the bloodcells

of dab and pouting.

Imagine reading those smells

that are long out of print –

the origin of salt,

oxygen's historic drift,

misspellings

of sinks

of carbon.

Imagine smelling that urge

to purge an estuary

of its role as a long-term nursery;

her internal stilted hatch of eggs,