Anaerobe

Touch swollen tonsils:

gill slits.

Inside eyelid: slimelight.

Cheek: shark.

Here foreknown

I’ve dived

down dawnless

microbial snows,

phosphor blue to blue-

black, to black.

I fend

fish. I find

the saffron curb

of   the sulfur vent,

veering voiceless

again into the segmented,

swaying, white,

toothed tube-

worm, Time.