It is night, no one else is home tonight
It stands there by the mirror again, painting on a blank surface
Now it's taking the bus into town in silence
Its fancy shoes are already squeezing against its heels

Now it's arrived
It's being pushed back and forth between steaming bodies
Sober among liquor and cigarettes
The roof is swinging, the floor is swinging, it's swinging into strangers' mouths
Lashes against its cheek, snail trails under its ear from someone's tongue
Its feet are aching

Now it's out in the night air again, going to the docks
It caresses its foot blisters in the black water
Its legs are embraced by the cold
Its skin fades transparent
Now, its entire lower body has debouched into long tentacles that reach downward, outward
Its stomach turns to jelly
Its shoulders, head, and arms mold together into a smooth clock
Now it's soundlessly sliding down into the water
Slowly pulsating toward the ocean

It is dawn