Early Morning Octopus

by Mike Hetzler

Moistness of the eyes,
You're so soft and quiet in this light

Before dawn
Scuttling low
To the floor
Eight limbs

Threatened and fleeing over dry floorboards,
The ink that wells within you defensively cast
Onto forgotten shreds of paper.

The outcome, a wordless narrative
suction cup imprints which can't be rationed
into meaning by the ceaseless human mind

Scrunched under the bed awaiting
Predation, holding on to the ends of fantasy
Tightly
Evading the inevitable:
When inside comes to drag you out.

*Previously published in Five:2:One