the fable of the mermaid

lies quietly in my bath.

I swore

I wouldn’t tell

and it’s not likely

I’d be believed.


her soft sounds

the relief

of finally finding water,

this water,

with a hint of salt.

Slightly above tepid

her shoulders glisten


just underneath

her patterns

start to appear.


pillowy softness

there is this

resetting magic.

Her eyes

glisten inside

with the brightest blue

a self reflection.

She smiles,

everything falls apart

a dagger is pierced

forever wounding

she invites my hand

her lips

kiss fingertips.

A hand to skin

we’re inside talking

her unheard voice

words play


A strange

new dialect,

a sort of clicking

her brilliant

ancient language.

It’s hard to imagine

putting her back

in our world.

In this moment,

she protests,


this is exactly where

she belongs

and stays.

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