Between frequent blinks fighting
acid sweat I've been examining
the chlorine-pruned mazes
of my would-be fingerprints
the outermost layer logged
in white transparency very
much like my alibi.
She’s been sprawled out inside
for the better part of 4 days
and I’m starting to detect
her jelly innards decaying
releasing smelly gases, rank,
but much sweeter than those
they’ll give me when they find us.
I've tired of the chase, so instead
I’ll just bathe in the frills of her estate,
olympic-pooled and palm-treed feng shui,
until I hear the sirens call my name.
But I bet there’s still a chance
I might yet escape, if I focus very hard
and dive real straight.
