Fish Market by Meghana Kodali

All I could see were two freckles on your neck

Arranged an inch apart like empty eyes

Or mouths

Black and gaping.

And then the hug came to an end,

And I was looking instead at the eyes on your face,

But they looked the same

Like glass marbles photographed from above on a sheet of paper,

Dimensionless and thinly shadowed.

Your mouth moved, and I watched the corners wrinkle like those of

A fish in high sun

Scales glinting like bismuth through interrupted spatters of light

No noise came out.

Moments later, when I came to, you were looking at me expectantly

Again, those eyes

“What time does your plane leave?”