Slightly Slanted Spaces

a(n) [Saturday morning] excerpt.

I try to focus on the negative space outside of my body. Breathe in the warmth of the chamber, the glow of the stained-glass lamps. Wanting so much to press into the glass of the dome and pass through it. To swim away and forget. Into a welcoming void dappled in the last strands of light dancing on the plateau. Then, the light changes. A shadow comes into focus and stretches across the watered plains to reveal an enormous carcass. It teems and vibrates with all creatures, biting and gnawing. The living vying for the little death that leaves behind. Before the rot. Squinting, I can make out large pectoral fins and a distinctive hump. A song floats into memory:

“Willow, willow where to go.

Willow, willow how to know.

Willow, willow soft and slow.

On my way, to nowhere and home.”

I wonder if the whale sang as they sank to the floor.