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.