I pause.
It pauses.
The mudskipper clings
to the roots and looks back
at me, a fish out of water.
It swims amidst the bramble,
A tangle of timber in the brackish water.
The root maze spreads beneath
the mangrove tree on tiptoes in the tide.
Over, under, and around
Each piece of knobbed bark dry and papery
Like the wood that is emulsified and compressed.
The mudskipper safeguards the tree,
as I flip through pages
Two dimensional and paper-thin.