We fell prey to the quick sand,
fixated, watching her lulling tides
as if it were the first time, and the last
a sea maiden would look us in the eye.
Denial was upon us in an apocalyptic
tsunami that never relented, unless
you promised to pay up in unknown
The ocean is the only solution for grief.
Seconds of solace stretch into minutes
of swish, swoosh, swirl, swish.
Making a cave in damp sand, I’d lay my
turquoise blanket, letting the water take
me, back to fireworks long ago, laughter rolling
into smiling ears.
Water seeks far more than bodies,
it needs souls to feed on, washing
up discarded gunk of beggars and fools, a wise
saline filter that conversed to me daily.
Repeating motions with no discernible change.
Recycling thoughts, prayers, screams,
tears that were all the same in cerulean.
Twirling smooth edges of sea stone,
discovered before sunrise,
wishing to wrap it up in wire for her,
envisioning it around her neck,
just below her tan collarbone,
and that smile.
But you didn’t grow up with the sea,
he used to say, hand on my shoulder startling
me. He often wondered why my roots
grew deeper in perpetually shifting grains.
I know the ocean, it knows me,
my response, wistfully watching gulls
scoping out their dinner scraps. He’d gently lead
me away, somehow I’d float back to where fresh sheets
waited, laundered in lingering
My mind slipped out from loose threads
beneath the stars, feet carrying me to the pier
I knew only since last year. The ocean lay in
calm ripples tonight, she listened as I counted pearls,
the space between each a siren call in my heart.
orbs reflecting in orb until
the moon rose up on his highest tides,
the greatest solitude there,
waiting for my breath to release fears
that countless miles had trailed
fourteen days behind me.
Tiny gasps were enough to fill
the empty conch shell that fluttered inside my chest,
uncovering the remains of me.
Following me, home.