Architeuthis
by Rhiannon Admidas
In December of 2015, a giant squid swam into Toyama Bay in Japan. A local dive shop owner guided the squid back out to the ocean. The squid clung to the diver’s body using its legs’ suckers. Later, the diver said the squid was “unexpectedly beautiful, its body glowing red.”
Legs spread
then pressed together
again spread
then pressed then
spread. Then pressed.
You think this is how
any of us get anywhere
you say ink ink ink
but what do you know
about the feldspar
marbling of my body
about how cool
to the touch I become
in the dark ink
ink ink. I undulate
I’m an arrow shot
straight at the sun.
A hand spread wide
open, each finger reaching
grasping like I once
grasped for you,
for your body.
I just wanted my own sun
to warm my skin red –
my own space spread wide
like a hand in the airy blue
of the sky, the sun –
I don’t keep company
with liars. Open your hands,
show each finger to me.
Show each honest answer
you have ink ink
legs spread ink
then together.
