as a child, no more than ten, i crashed

into the towering waves of salt-soaked ocean

as an adult, now twenty, i weep

when remembering the sharp waves across my thin skin

yearning for my lungs to turn into gills 

and my skin to shimmer like scales

and wondering how i used to call the ocean my friend

as i practiced my powers of water against its strong tide

crying for why my ten toes wouldn’t let me

swim like the aquarium fish through the sapphire sea

even though all it has even done for me is make me cough

salt-soaked saliva and taste the bloodiron across my tongue

that flowed through the jetted waters 

with the calm that the sea foam challenged

before cackling its foam-filled laugh 

and making me fear its large expanse

as it gripped my calves and dragged my

feet along the rough sand until 

as i dipped my toes into the rough sand 

and let the ocean kiss their small surfaces

the emptiness of maritime mystery

and the outline of death along the void

i pulled back and looked away

from the first love i’ve ever had

who i confessed my soul to before it washed away into

nothing but the loud silence of conch shells

who once taught me the calm of crashing waves

and the stillness of the beating heart

while my body loosened its wriggling form

and smiled as i felt peace for the first time

so I embraced the swift release of drowning

         and realized, this old friend was nothing but an illusion