Looking at the sky

Through a two-way mirror?

A window?

No.

Liquid glass

Water, so clear it’s almost

Not there.

You’ve never been up this high

In the ocean before.

There must be something more up there

But a sharp hit turns you back,

Black ink spews everywhere,

The glass no longer clear.

Hunters often come here to

Find others like you

A snack for some,

A reward for others.

It’s not really your intention to

be sold to some sushi maker.

There must be a way for you

to fight back.

They underestimate you

and how far you will go

to keep your view of the world

the same; through the glass.

They

won the lottery

to have the chance to get

three thousand dollars

for a creature of the deep.

There are

Five men on the boat,

(six before you dragged one under).

Heaven? Oh, you’ll see it soon, and you

hate to run away, but you have to.

Won to three for Five six Heaven hate.

You may have your eight beams of support now,

But that can always change.