i. back then, when you held someone else it
felt real, like your fingers were anchors. now you are
weak strings. she becomes a scar you cannot talk about
like a fault in the earth’s crust, you become an
earthquake.
she used to be your only source of warmth.


ii. jellyfish can live forever.

under a streetlamp
you adjust your shoes while someone
makes a comment about marine life. you had met
the ocean, animated. she had laughed like the waves
crashing against the beach. some people are
trenches and some are reefs and some rare creatures
are both.


iii. jellyfish can live forever.

she did not.
the storm inside her
was too strong.


iv. she never asked for flowers. she wanted so little.

they brought her lilies and you wanted to rip them from their fingers. you wanted to say: no, sing for her.
she loved music. she loved animals. she loved art.
she loved the way the wind felt against her face.
open up the coffin. don’t bury her this way.


v. you hold people like you are scared
they will evaporate at your touch. a boy laughs about it,
asks why your eyes are deserts. you do not know
how to tell him:
i have lost her. i have lost my ocean.


vi. who will sail on this night
when even the stars are ready to cry?


vii. one day you will go down to the beaches again.
the salty spray will feel like her hand on your cheek, but
it will not make you cry anymore.
do not walk in above your head. stand there
and know that
she is back with the sea,
and, at last, she is finally happy.