Full fathom five, and farther down

I dive. It is as black as ice

and what lives here creeps, bug-eyed, 

white-eyed, phosphorescent oozing

trailing tentacles like hungry weeds. 

My lantern here is blind in this depth

where no rays of light make bold

to caress. I wear no suit

and the dead sea licks at my clammy skin.

In primordial chaos eels glide,

mouths beckoning like caverns,

their teeth jewels, little fish

shining. Here is where I go when day

is finished. I am company to monsters.

I've dived here before. This place

is rank with my words. Every wound

sends me here to drown. I dream

in the land of giants, chewing my liver

and breathing in the bile. This cold place

is like nowhere else - its salt is not of life 

or anything like life, absinthe's bitter fairy

is sweet to this stream. I suck bones.

O, my hair might be red as flame, 

dyed with fire, but I am no phoenix;

I drink blood not fire, I consume, 

gorging on hearts and sucking obsession

as if it were cherry filling. Lazarus

might have learned a trick or two 

from my leprous hands. I thrash in the water,

seeking my tail, sloughing off my life

and death and humiliation while waiting

for rebirth. I've done this before. I can reach

my depths and bestow on myself

the obscene kiss. My end is my beginning;

I drink to this.

My hairs, like weeds, Ophelia's bitter herbs,

whip, stirring the waters.

The current blinks. On a distant continent

the earth shakes off a coil.