cephalopod haiku and tanka

[trascendenza]

For nonspecific, because I was remiss in my duties. The last one is missing a syllable but it just refuses to be fixed, woe.

inhale, exhale -- life
is endless forward motion,
siphoning in, out.

my chromatophores
are so cooler than yours: look,
ma, no tentacles.

octōpedes, the
plural that never was,
wistfully declined.

beak scrapes rock, body
stretched to an impossibly long,
thin line of escape.

hearts pump in triple
time, slow in the inky dark,
each molecule of
oxygen a pearl cradled
in a coppery red shell.

arms unfurl in a
hydrostatic dance, eight at
once, bilateral
symmetry expanding like
a vascular forest.

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