She opens her grief as one guts a fish,
nimble and clean, a blade sheened in red.
Don’t let the ocean break you when
you cannot swim. Everyone can swim
until they drown. See, bodies bloating violet
against the surge of each wave, beating
and remembering slivers of a life held
shut like eyes flecked with dreams
of little girls gathering beached shells
under the expanse of a rhyolite sky, singing:
I am a still creature suspended in time!
I am a still creature suspended in time
under the expanse of a rhyolite sky, singing
of little girls gathering beached shells
shut like eyes flecked with dreams
and remembering slivers of a life held
against the surge of each wave, beating
until they drown. See, bodies bloating violet.
You cannot swim. Everyone can swim.
Don’t let the ocean break you, when,
nimble and clean, a blade sheened in red,
she opens her grief as one guts a fish.