My dear little fish bowl, 

my kaleidoscope to reality.

How you continually hold onto the water, 

plagued with unbalanced salinity.

Your curved smooth transparency 

on my crusty opaque, irrationally perfect.

Seemingly fit in the golden ratio 

of the beautiful abstract.

You harbour the ecosystem 

of a long lost childhood, 

into a conspicuous slippery bottom, 

still with sand and refuse.

My dear fish bowl ,

a haven for untamed, unnamed, unnatural.

A sanctuary not quite whispered, 

but a fallacy quite visceral.