Shore

Can’t you see my jellyfish heart?

Your smudgy remarks diffuse into my pond of dreams,

Algae creeps onto my eyelids, casting greenish shades.

Harsh grains cling to the interior of my throat,

Slicing the pounding flesh into forceless bruise.

The claws of water clutch my neck, tight, crushing,

Short on air.

Seasons ago, you beckoned like estuary,

Hit like flood. I walked, barefoot, alone the shore,

Polished like pebble, mellow as soil.

Your winds undulated, and I bent like reeds. Then

Land altered, the elastic metal, the solid waves,

Melt, leached, gone.

You are trampling on my currents. I fluctuate,

I decay. Not wanting to break.

Your dam has become sharp fences –

Borders I cannot cross, for I’m native. I stay,

I ripple with moon. The oceanic silhouette of yours,

Growing dim, dismissed.

I whisper to your freshwater, timeworn.

2022.3.17