#treanding

A quiet pulse hums through the dark tunnel

Ocean-blue pearls drifting through my veins

stirring every pulse awake.

I rise through the tide, catching breath,

drifting beside the dead fish in silence.

I breathe beneath the moon’s pale hands,

as the High Priestess waits for my return.

Then the moon drifts away,

and the sun scorches the surface of the sea,

as I melt back into the tide.

I am the mermaid of saltwater veins,

woven by the ocean’s hands,

I yearn for the sun’s warmth like love,

a love that feels like being held by light

even when it leaves me scorched.

The ocean held me in cold hands,

and I never feared the tide,

only the things that burned too warmly

and left scars like fire.

Am I carrying the ocean in my veins,

or am I the ocean’s daughter after all?

Perhaps not knowing is its own kind of mercy.