now that the wreck is uncovered
I’ll take you as my Cousteau

the flippers aren’t as awkward now
and the black rubber has faded
into my skin like a rash

there was never a need for chisels
a knife will do

nothing was set in stone . . .
only paper. The book is water-logged
and the ladder still hangs

but there is nothing innocent about it

a black-widow spider
lingers where it should not
on the word maps that hang
between coral reefs and other dead things

I have the courage to go back to this scene
to write my name beside yours
because it is my drowned face
that slept with open eyes

I was not left to rot
because you rescued me
from the silent circles and indifference

Lana Maht Wiggins
from her book Notes from Refuge
Plain View Press, 2008

reprinted with permission of the poet