-
tells me stories back forth
pendulums move above our wrists
chestnut curls blend with wild
white banshee hair
we peel red apples
throwing these over our shoulder
being told this can reveal initials
spouses to be
laughter merges with sun
our little brother babbles
he is the apple of our mothers eye
when first I met sea
she offered me mercy
her sight cleansed each pore
remembering when I was a selkie
a water nymph swimming
the lapis lazuli bathing my soul
promenading bare foot
something within deepest pores
keening kindling cradled
perhaps it was freedom given
my grandmother sits in her high seat
she tells me what is given already is there
for it belongs
old spinstress wayfaring wanderer
come wander each wonder
my pheromone unknown
If I were to wed
It would be the sea
Only the ocean belongs to me!
April 5th 2026 number 11 I guess