Ebbing
Because I recently returned to her, and even if only for a short while, I am full again and glad of it.
I miss the sea
Her brine in my sinuses
Clearing, cleaning, leading me
Towards her lace, chasing
The weightlessness that lingers
Deep in my brain and bones
After floating free in her belly
The taste of her tears on my tongue
Disguising the salt of my own
Crystals glinting, coating my flesh
For hours after I have left her side
The tiny sands she leaves behind, twining
My hair reminding me to let her stay
Thick, unwashed, and wild
The ache from who I was, unburdened
When I was with her
I miss the sea
— A.R.
Married to the Sea by Clare Elsaesser
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