A Poem Phore Tina

(An Ode to Ctenophora, The Comb Jellies)

Gazing into your clear blue eyes

I press your squishy body

And watch it rise under your firming cups of lace,

I’m tickled by your rainbowed lashes

And the curve on your kaleidoscopic face.

I feel every one of your striated muscles

Pulsing to the metachronal rhythms of the sea,

And it’s as if you are running

Tiny cilia combs through me.

Filtering my planktonic memories

From moving waters rushing past

And when you put out your tentilla

My dreams stick to your colloblasts.

Then you pull me gently

Deep into your mesoglea

Where between layers of soft jelly

My satisfaction is all digested

And in your pure and perfect body

At long last I am rested.

Your lips have devoured me swiftly

And your pharynx has closed tight,

Now your statocyst keeps us in balance,

As we rise into the light.