Daughter

My mom once wants

to tattoo an ocean on her chest.

Later she gives birth to me,

like pulling out an island from her water.

Floating,

I learned to whisper my secrets to the ocean

using my veins when I was just a little girl.

The tides come in

                                & out

                              in       & out

Every time it splashes onto the shore,

it molds the shape of me,

& the shape of my calls.

With seventy percent of blue loneliness

in my body, I carry tears like salt,

hair like seaweed,

to compose my own air.

In those oceanic breathes, my mom

tells me that she has never been to the sea.

But I come from her blood,

I am the scar she has etched

to the unfailing waves.

With the bless of her wet lips,

my arteries align with the deep horizon.

I am the daughter.

I am the wish.

2022.5.9