See how lovely my curves.
From my eye down my shank
round the bend I end in the barb
a spur so fine a point, a place
where metal comes to an end
an ambiguous transitional place
where everything comes to an end
where space takes over metal
or metal takes over space, where
both bait and the hooked fight
the pain and despair, then the
letting go and finally with
chaos gone all things melt
into one and calm
prevails.