Val Dering Rojas
A man catches a fish, and marvels at her luminosity. Porcelain-skinned
specimen. He thinks of bones falling into fire, of feldspar, sodium,
seawater's silver-white equivalent, ground glass prism. He thinks of
the ashes of saints. He thinks of table salt and the translucence
of kaolin. How even the faintest light will expose flaws, cracks. He thinks,
how, when a man catches a fish, sometimes he throws her back.