She drank water no tongue
has touched, above orcas
and eyeless lobsters. She
saw sun sink in water that
was warm then cold, that
opened like a grave, that
spoke secret words of
regret and retreat. She held
two countries in white
hands. She pushed and pulled
her way to Florida. Her heart
is full of jellyfish, her skin
a soft legume. When I am
old and grey and barely
awake. I hope I have the
strength to say "The sea
waits for me." I hope I
have the strength to be
blue and bloody, to hold
discouragment by the throat,
to drink redemption like wine.
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