the looming lighthouse
holds him hostage
he, the keeper

by daytime
he studies
a tree's worth of sheets
compiled over his desk

he polishes porcelain cups
waters his
venus fly traps
jaws agape in a silent scream
toothpick teeth
over rash red mouths

in the night
he leans over the balcony
something
waits for him at the bottom

over the clashing waves it
calls to him in his
deceased mother's voice
telling him to jump