Whales Blood In Honeycomb

In sharp licks of tile,
peppered with soap splinters
I wallow in lavender toxic scum;
stomach breaking through the foam surface
creating a goose pimpled island,
as whiskers,
grey and fragile like elderly limbs
cling to my throat as if to strangle me,
and bed my skin into a watery casket.
I rest blistering kidneys
on the bullet smooth bottom;
hovering in shallow ripples,
steamed cadaver in cast iron frame.
Suddenly I let go
of a pinch lurking beneath
and copper coloured twirls
rise in the cooling water;
clouded and relieved,
whale is happy now...

@Steven Francis poems 2009