In the end, I wanted to wake up sea foam.
I didn’t want these legs anymore that carry me
uselessly from house to house, searching for lost love.
I wore dresses that covered up the pale lengths,
in sea greens and azure blues, wove seashells into hair
and sang on a rock. None of it did any good.

Once, I would have died for you. I changed, I did,
and all just for one kiss, one touch, should it have burned
so much? I miss cool scales, the constant wet embrace,
the skittering tips of tsunami. While you
were out catching fish, with your tangled nets,
I was watching you, wishing for a different body, one to
entangle you.

It never did me any good. So I will wait for the ocean’s promise:
that once again I will end up on this beach, disintegrate,
spatter away into the essences of salt, sand, earth.
A waste of skin and scale, but at least once again
I will be part of the dance, the maternal water
carrying me home.