They heave me into the boat,
my shell and legs encumbered
with barnacles.

I hear the scraping of their knives,
their eager voices, the sound of
writhing disease hitting the floor.

I have been sick with attachments.
My saviors delight in freeing me
as equally as they will delight
in their after-beer of celebration.

I am relieved to lose these barnacles,
but there is a disease that feels
much deeper—

there is a disease that will slip back
into the cool water with me
when they let me go.