new moon in Cancer

Mami Wata

crisping in the sun, I lay on the outline of my father’s sea waiting for the cool relief

of each wave, washing away the heat. just in time

a big one knocked me over, dragged me away from the sand and my skin met the sharp edge of a shell

or a rogue piece of glass. saltwater bled from the gash on my inner thigh as my palm rushed to suffocate the flow

but my waterlogged pain found chorus in the cacophony of voices rising from the darkness below

sparkling with life.

clutching my leg and harmonizing in tumultuous grace

a guiding hand pulled me down deeper, away from the raucous of the land.

she gathered me into a smothering hug

drained the hurt from my body

poured seawater back into me

bandaged me up with gentle kisses

and washed me back onto the shore.

9 years old and new, ornamented with seaweed.

and so I have returned to the line between our homes

every day or so,

it’s a different ocean but the same water

and I guess it’s gratitude that I bring when I visit

along with news from above the surface.

but,

I still bring my wounds to rinse, or rage to drown, and a question I can’t sit with alone

maybe even a flower

it’s vibrant decay, an offering.

because life is just a phase, I’ve killed for you

and if I rode on its petal

how long would I have to travel before I could reach the chorus again

and this time,

will she let me go all the way down?

just deep enough to peer into the world shrouded in darkness sparking with life.