Splashing

Break me down to the underneath.
I have a soul so black
that bats don't even want to live there.
If you have found
that truth before now,
do me a favor and
grind me under your heel.
Not just my black soul,
but my flesh, my organs, my bones.

You will come up radiant,
blowing up in the water
and scattering the orcas to
all corners of the core.

You will come out finished,
the golden tips of the
sunrise's scalding hem
rising to reveal your kneecaps.

And me, not even fit to lick
the bottom of your shoe.
I am a crazy fool to ask you
to look at the dully lighted
lanterns in my eyes,
even though they flicker
more often than not,
and notice the illusion of light there,
instead of
the shuddering blackness
lodged in the take over of myself.

And somehow,
like I can be sure of the absence
of light in me,
I can be sure of the presence
of light in you,
and your choice to move in with me.