I keep the glasses on so they don't see the sea in my eyes
The weight on so they catch no undulating suspicion
You say from your lofty planes that it is not like my kind to hide
But what am I to do when you
Have left me here
To bear and love these mongrel children?
Your experiments at gentling these fierce mammals
Took no care for the mottling of DNA, den and sea, that turns to attack itself
Looking for air, fire
If you will not protect these cubs, I can never leave
And did you think, Mother
What the un-gentling need to defend makes of the likes of me?
How long before I take the comb to my hair and
Lure them all down the whirling darkness to the deeps?
Do you trust me so much?
You should not
You know nothing of the strength required
Dare not to tell me not to hide when you
Are afraid to look
Better come and heal
Better come and shield
Your work will be in shambles if you think that I will yield.