A Kelpie ride

Inside of me

I have Platonic solids —

The only ones to lean on

When everything is fluid

On the outside,

Including my tears.

The flow of change

Leaves me grasping,

Tumbling and falling

Where the barre should be.

I’m Dancing on the slippery deck

Of the ship lost at sea,

Shaky as it’s tossed around

By massive dark waves.

Those feel formidable,

And they’re my home.

Neptune at the bottom

Of my natal chart...

I may never walk on solid ground,

Or if I do it will be painful.

A mermaid bound to be eerie

But awkward amongst humans.

We’re not on equal footing.

What’s this boat to me?

An appearance of a “normal” life?

My urge to control the outcomes?

Or could it be a Kelpie’s back?

I feared so...

The beast knows

How much I like horses;

All he had to do is show up.

Call it rapture,

Since here amongst the waves,

In the company of manta rays

Is my heaven.

The one where there’s a dark abyss

Under my feet

Shapeshifting into a fishtail;

The one where everything is nebulous,

And the time is but (f)”ish”

Passing by;

The one which feels

As soothing as a cup of coffee

That I have whenever-ish,

Elusive whether calm or restless,

Allowing me to rest

Throughout rush hours in the morning (Ick!!)

Which used to be a drag.

Where there could be as many answers

To one single question

As you could imagine,

Each one valid,

Unlike in mental prison

Of unforgiving math, as rigid as a corpse

(Ick-ick again!)

Where I am able to be anything

And yet remain myself.

Because within

There’s those platonic solids,

Reflected in the crystals in my hand:

Blood memory of garnets,

Truth-seeking of sapphires,

Abundance and vitality

Carnelians can bring,

Aquamarine’s protection

From misfortune

And highest standards of pure gold.

But above all —

A pearl’s deceptive softness,

Its innocent and classy luster,

Like ballerina’s new pointe shoes.

I know what it feels like

To grow my pearls inside.

Their humble origin,

The time it takes,

And all those moments

Which seem like ages

When I’m brought down

To my knees,

Convinced that growing pains

Will kill me...

These inner solids

Are my balance point.

My values.

The downside, of course,

Is called platonic love... another “ick”.

Let me explain.

To share my treasures freely

I have to find the heart

Of equal weight in substance —

Not druggy substitutes

But real passion made contagious,

The gift of his whole being.

All his dark corners,

Everything he hides

Out of fear of being hurt,

Or worse — embarrassed.

Bring it on! Surprise me.

My own pearls

Grow out of dark places;

I’ve felt it all... too much,

At the wrong timing,

Perhaps with the wrong people

Who held out on me.

I want it all, uncensored.

Trust me, I do know

How scary it can be

To leap into dark waters,

To get lost at sea.

I want the kind of heart

Which equals all my treasures

And the price I paid for them.

I want it brought to me,

Left at my feet

And never taken back.

Its touch as soft as feathers,

Its beating is the music

That makes me wish to Dance,

Dissolve in ghostly tune.

Its taste a wine divine,

The cure for my anguish,

The essence of the Moon.

I could say more

About the fragrance

I’m trying to imagine...

It goes well with features

Not to describe, just see.

Stargazing’s what I call it.

Absorb them with my skin ,

A constellation filling up my bathtub,

Resurfacing in Dreams.

This heart would be the mirror

Of broken, sultry,

Most inappropriate,

Rejected parts of me.

That’s what I must be here for,

Brought out to the sea,

Put back into my element

I tried so hard to flee.

November 25, 2021.

N.B.