Ebb and Flow
You were always a mermaid of the air,
they told me. Giggling at the invisible
waves running through my hair, I
would squeal at every tickle
my unearthly swimming brought me.
I gave all of my trust to those hands and arms—
tree trunks covered in black moss—
warm, strong, big enough to hold me
up. His hands and his arms were my home.
No matter how high he threw me up, no matter how far
I swam above him, I would always return. He would always
catch me. He would always reel me back in like a fish
being tugged back into its salty home.
I laughed when he would catch me, after my
sea breeze swim. He would laugh too,
and our voices would intertwine and float
together into the mist, spinning into one thread.
Push, pull, throw, catch. The ebb
and flow of relationships and of life never
cease, they never falter. Laugh with every
crash and sway. Spread your sail and catch the cobalt wind.
There are hands out there, perfectly molded to catch you.