It is just you, us, and the low, saturated clouds in all directions. There is nowhere for you to go, your boat is in splinters, its nets ripped to pieces, the heavy boom far underneath us.
We wrap around you, thick and heavy. We want to hold you, don’t you see? Can’t you understand? We love you. You keep struggling, splashing vainly.
We cue the rain. It beats, mightily, against your head, forcing you a little bit lower and into us. You flail your arms, treading, trying to stay afloat. Your hair’s too long, its all in your face, covering your eyes. You have to lift one hand to franticly brush it away so you can see.
We can rub up against your neck now. You are getting tired.
Tears slide down your cheeks, and drop into us. Their salt adds to ours. You know you belong to us. We can almost taste it.
The rain pours on and tiny diamonds of hail are shaken down from the sky. We mirror it, reflecting the soft, velvety grey of the clouds above us. We are a conductor to the symphony that is our storm, and you can be our audience.
Time for the wind! We swell and grow with the powerful, salty gusts. You are carried up and down, still fighting us. We are impatient. Why don’t you see?
A fragment of your boat drifts by. It is waterlogged, floating low . You reach for it, desperately, but we whisk it away. We know what piece it is, and we don’t like it. It is the piece you nailed on when you married her, the piece that says “Ramona”. You are ours, now, all ours, and she is nothing but memory.
We remember when we first found you. You had burst through the little door of your house with news of a bountiful trip.
“At least two tons!” you said, excitedly. “Two tons of the finest black cod you could find. Oh, how I love my Ramona.”
She smiled, and put her arms around your neck. You kissed her deeply.
“You taste like the sea!” she exclaimed, giggling.
She went to the sink and poured some of us into a glass. It smelled of lemon dish soap. She set us down by your place.
“We don’t have any wine...”
“Just wait until I sell these cod! We’ll get the finest. We’ll get champagne! French champagne.” You lift your glass. “Cheers!”
You touched it to hers and drank, and we were inside you- we were you- and we fell in love. At that moment, we had to have you. We promised ourselves we would.
Time for the thunder! Our furious musical cacophony is growing louder and even greater. Do you like it?
You are so weak and tired. We’re ready to carry you away. There is a name on your lips; you are gasping it with your last breaths, calling to her. We fill your mouth, caressing the inside of your cheek.
And then our frothy foam is at your head.
We can touch all of you, now. We explore you, feeling every bit of skin. Your hair swirls around you in a weightless cloud as we rush to your lungs. You inhale, letting us even further inside. The chaos of the surface is far above us; there are no more crashing waves or roar of the wind. Here, it is thick. It is soft and silent and gentle, and in the slow-motion stillness it is just us and you and-
We can feel your thoughts, now. You are thinking of her, and of irony, and of us. We almost have you. Soon, you will see.
We turn you over gently. We want to know all of you, we want to be you again. You are deep inside of us, and we are inside of you, as well. This is ecstasy; this is heaven; this is all we could ever have hoped for, all we knew we could have.
A tiny bubble escapes from your lips. It makes its way lazily to the surface, where it breaks.
Our storm has peaked; our symphony is over. As the wind dies, we calm, and so does the rain. We reflect the sun above us, poking out from behind a dicipating cloud. We are a glittering blue forever.
You have become part of us.
Finally, you understand.
I liked it; I liked how the ocean was personified not just in a word but from the beginning to the end. A few things that stuck out:
