new moon in Leo

to cure

refreshed and parched at once

it’s funny how important it is to hydrate after being in the ocean for a while.

water struggling to replace what water has taken away.

why is it that

when the waves crash over me

with an extra reserve of strength

and the brine touches my tongue,

I am immediately flooded with the experiences of each and every time before that,

that I have been kissed by the ocean?

no other taste has the power to

so quickly and so completely

carry me through space and time,

as if I agreed, long beforehand,

that the ritual of being bathed from the inside out with saline,

came with certain rules.

and if I asked the ocean to hold me

cleanse me and allow me to emerge lighter,

then I would have to recognize it as a container

for everything I needed to release,

holding my memories, rocking them back and forth with the waves

and occasionally crashing them over me

and that I—

awash with every version of myself

all of the me’s that I have been,

each time I’ve offered myself up to the tides

—in exchange, owe my presence.

a signature spat out in a desperate effort

to rid my mouth of the brackish taste that I already knew would never leave

(at least not entirely)

binding me to a responsibility

to return

and to witness the process of being preserved.