I was the child of the ocean
a brother of the shore
an amphibian
picking pebbles by the day
and swimming naked by the night
What if I walk along the line today
and tell you that I do not
know how to swim anymore?
That the thought of drowning
now terrifies a man who’d boldly freestyle
and lazily backstroke in the salt of the ocean?
I do not know why it happened
but I remember almost sinking once
it was high tide
and I wasn’t too careful
What does one think of
when the froth brims up to
your lips
gushes into your nostrils?
I only remember terror
I was saved
I remember being carried to the beach
in the arms of my mother
resuscitated and resurrected
I woke up, seeing people
and you.
I did not know then
That we would come this far
How do I tell you today
when you are on your sick leave?
And who else do I tell
That it still haunts me
to even wander out into the low tide
under the moonlight?
That I do not know where my home is anymore
That my gills disappeared
And my lungs still fear being engulfed
What if I told you
That it frightens me
when you venture out into the night
and saunter along the sands
loving the solitude that the breeze of
an ocean brings upon the turmoil inside you
that you might find the remains
of a child who almost died here?

What if I told you
that I’m out tonight
and determined to swim again?
What would you do?
Would you come out to save me then?
Or would you swim with me?

Sometimes when I stare into your eyes, I fear you would write the same poem for me.


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