Sea Change

Born halfway across the world

from my mother’s body of water

into another endless expanse

Was this all already written?

I wish I knew the words

so I could recite them back to you

But they’re buried along the ocean floor

and I haven’t been swimming in ages

I’ll never forget our time in the water

My fingers wrapped around your thumbs

like safety bars, the salt keeping me buoyant

Nature’s preservative, but I’ve long since

crawled up onto shore, now trudge through the mud

Fat and muscle endlessly sloughing off

left in debris you still keep collections of

No matter how much it can weigh at times

I know my love and gratitude I can never abandon

I’d like to find a delta someday

where the sea rips the rivers and streams

back from land, and I’m helpless

to do anything but let the current take me

Like a coward, I want

to keep my head underwater

let the salt sour my tongue

and the sand weigh down my lungs

Carve my fingers and toes

into the seabed,

beg for the sediment to wear away

at skin, organs, bones,

let seaweed and algae sprout where it may

in places I thought you knew

it was perfectly natural for it to

Yet I still dream

once you visit again

the bottom of your feet

might scrape across my face

and you’ll pull me up for air

and still recognize me