My left toe is cold upon the breath of
salt water, it folds over grey concrete
and recedes back, again.
Frilly white edges crooning the lonely
sea wall, where my open book sits.
A book about a girl, and cornwall,
About six seconds later, after a gulp,
she reaches back up the concrete, and swallows
the whole foot.
Licks the saluted hairs on my ankle.
It occurs to me how easily she could turn
this embrace into a feast.
Swipe my human legs with her cool, liquid hands.
Toss me amongst the waves, like wet hair.
I let her pull me out, and close
my eyes to the world.
A titanic pulse.
A worlds worth of heart
dragged through the throat of a small
I gather all of myself
And appear, a blackblue
clot, before a child, standing at
The edge of the water.
I have come for him,
he called me, his soft throat
peeling familiar notes from the wind
And falling in flakes upon my skin.
He seeks an embracing mother,
And I shall embrace him as a mother should.
Careful not to drown him.