Hour Six

A fish out of water
scooped out of the expanse
with a net of lies
and plunged within
a crystalline bowl.
Flitting to the surface
wherein lies the tease
of sustenance and breath
held in stagnancy.
Feeble attempts to avoid
the anglerfish
and it’s temptation-
a false hope of ultraviolet
lure to wrangle in the catch.
Hiding within a castle
surrounded by the anemones
with tendrils of flesh
waving like a banner of surrender,
while avoiding curious eyes
and sidelong glances.
A hook and another line
descend to the gravel bottom-
the lure, a promise of relief
from the constraints of
a limited existence.
A living decoration
swimming through the days
trapped within a lonely puddle
while dreaming of the ocean
depicted in the backdrop.