Originally published on Feminartsy.
how we desert sprites grew into
sharks, i’ll never know:
creatures of the depths that roam
without ceasing, that cannot stop
for fear of sinking death
Does the sea envy land
its solidity? Does it tire of the
dip and crest and break, and dream
a restless dream of ancient rock?
Is it why, from time to time it
hauls back and overreaches, jealously dragging
unwitting earth away to its
fretful bed, to rest but
and is it saying, when it rattles through
the comfortable moorings of
indolent boats: if i am never to be still,
or is it us,
we little sharks still longing for the land,
that quake the ocean
with our mortal fear?