i am water.
cascading / ebbing / flowing / rippling
my body is not
a straight line-
but the ocean was never
designed to be straight.
my legs don’t always
have space between them,
but even the ocean is not
always kissing the shore.
i don’t know why,
when i think
of myself,
i always come back
to the ocean
but just as
the tide relentlessly insists
on coming back
to the shore,
i continue returning
to this metaphor.
i am
the ocean.
i swell. and
i shrink.
but-
does the ocean
apologize
for the space it consumes?
if so, i
have never heard it.
has the sun ever
refused to shine
on the surface of the
water?
maybe, but
not in my presence.
so i continue
bringing myself
into the light.
i deserve to be seen.
in my ebbs and
my flows.
i deserve to be seen.
even when my mind
tells me differently.
i deserve to be seen.
despite my tendency
to seek the background.
so,
maybe this is why
i always run home
to the sea.
after all,
how can one
quantify the ocean?
how can one measure,
explain,
define
this global body
of raging water?
if i don’t have to explain
the ocean,
i don’t have to explain
myself.
for as long as the ocean
continues to take up
space,
so will i.
