-Shyanne Figueroa Bennett

Glimmering membrane of water

split when she enters. Sinks

to clay floor. Sand. Shell.

sedimenting to form

a woman   dark

as lake floor. Dark

as they created. In debris

of dynamic heads. Silver men

glisten unsewn and woven

into her being broken,

hollowed to carry

remnants of souls strewn

in man-made waters.

What can be made from nothing?

The question hooks to her neck.

Her curl hair gills for breath.

Iridescent scales shed

from slender sinewy form

as her intricate jawbones

mechanize for an open

-- unprecedented speech

for she who was carved

out of isthmus

intended for silence.