The Angelfish Greet Odysseus

Angelfish perturb the area around pink gauze, are the details of a threaded diamond string and its fake catachrestic applause. Like that of the angelheaded beast spreading its wings, as if to swim under the light of the glowworm and hyacinth, the fish are oratory and not. The pulchritude of bombazine on a shattering geoidal mid-afternoon, dribbling from sea rock to splint, the wing tips are hardly bleak accoutrements, their own swinging by the bay of a chest and a previous rock. Here we are stranded, pelagic with clot, and the fish burble with oratory and I kind of like them a lot.