The Sea Has Always Called Me

In rooms of crystal clear water, you transformed me,

I could breathe and never leave,

So I didn’t.

Gravity was vague - as it is in the blues and greens,

Each room’s volume easily poured into its succeeding -

Perfect stasis in our large house.

In an ocean too deep to fathom, creatures I know appeared,

Sharks, rays, fish, darting between corals and great columned spears -

It is a scene from my childhood.

There he was, that Great Barracuda,

In the waters near Aruba,

The one that stole my breath from me.

A shark rounds the corner, floats down the stairs, unhindered,

My hands rise of their own accord, meeting the snout, light-fingered,

We have met before, sister.

My space has been replaced by a throne carved from conch,

It rises from a brand new sandy bottom which releases a bubbled song,

The room is full of corpses, bleached white by the sunlight.

I accept a pike and seat myself on the throne, now understanding my true purpose,

I am Queen of the sea, I thought, and all the pain of living felt suddenly worth it,

My sleeping mind attempted to comfort the waking.

My tail is a brilliant shade of shocking blue - a hue I can only dream of, never name -

For the color is what gives me power, the markings, groves and cuts prove my claim -

How can one put words to such a burden of power?

I am ethereal, otherworldly, a wild stroke of turbulence amidst a passive sea,

The water froths and reveals runes in the bottom, made of sand filigree -

I can read them, I understand.

Darkness creeps into my shining paradise -

I have known this presence more than twice -

He comes for me every time.

The mood shifts as the water does - hot and warm, then suddenly cold and sharp,

The tip of my own spear meets my heart and an arresting of time makes me feel that this was over before the start -

He is too powerful for us and we perish by his burning hands.