Weedbones

She's the colour of weeds
on a background of night.

Sea witch, with starfish lights
in her eyes. Hunger

shapes her mouth
like a wasted child,

turned out
into loveless corners.

She mourns the sea mist,
the roll of breakers,

starves for the crunch
of baby fish in her teeth.

Marine, aquatic, anivista,
all her shadows are liquid,

all her flesh is stark.
She cannot hold her bones

as they splinter and turn
beneath her skin,

a skeleton of holes.