Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole

Dear flappy fish,

You're out of water
your eyeballs are rolling white
your mouth cannot stay shut 
accordion gills
filigree, jazz fingers 
thumping on pavement. 
Heaving, retched a little bean: 
your brain
it died on the toothpick
I shoved in-between 
the shadow and a strawberry

I offer water, slice of lemon
still undead, still unloading 
Right- I let go.
you're spewing liquid innards
into atmosphere 
like it matters 

You’ve hit an unshakeable suit
personal politics of a first-born daughter 

Your shame isn't mine. 

Genuinely, 
Winehouse
your coded bitch