Diving Suit

A body is risk,

Hunted and driven ecstasy—

My body is espionage

And a wet silencer.

Every night I lay life on this

Thin red line through

A blue-tipped latitude,

And every night I slip on this

Refractive sealskin—

Below lymph node screensaver

There are deep valves

In dire need of tuning.

If I hazard it just right—

Get it all just tight enough—

Will this tube of flesh funnel

Lubricant thought

Into arctic extremities,

Undisclosed sectors?