The Age Of Reason Poem by Matt Mullins

You dream of naked skin
against the water in us:

How we turn our faces to the air
like archer fish spitting glass beads

tasting gravity against our teeth.

We take this much deep with us
into the fathoms we breathe

into the planet's slashed magma
unstitched and still expelling

afterbirth: we stick our heads back
in to the heat. You explain how

skin and meat boil
away from the bone

what's left of us floats back
up in bits to be devoured

and carried around the world
forever in the bellies

by a thousand birds.