and sank for one hundred years.
Beneath the toss and turn
of sleepless waves
Poseidon cradled me,
riptides and soft skin
And told me not to cry.
he sighed, in a hushed, blood rush whisper.
And then the nymphs are tracing the curve of my spine
and as my lids flutter shut I feel
urchins on my chest,
anemones sprouting between my toes.
I am too afraid to ask if I am drowning.
I woke with salt on my lips,
in a phantom’s arms,
in a stranger’s house,
and felt the sea breeze in the breath on my neck,
and tasted the ocean when we kissed.