Mood Swings

A river flows where the sea used to whistle my name, but

I still wait for the tide to come in

like kelp in the sun, crunchy and burning.

/

Dry cracks tear my skin into fresh gills.

I choke on the air

and thrash down the muddy river bank.

/

Swept down the channel,

gleefully shrieking until

I am combing effortlessly through the foaming curls of the sea.

/

Dipping between shimmering swells,

playing stupid with the fish,

I am ready to trade my legs for this freedom.

/

I dive down towards the tips of the sun rays

but recoil, pressure aching through my ears, and

surface in panic and pain.

/

I am fragile and lost, and

I have forgotten how to swim.

/

I hover at the surface through dusk, until

barnacles break through my kicking feet.

I tread quietly and wait

for orcas to show me home.