The water was cold, dark, deep.
It spilled into her mouth.
Her long tail and strong fins cut through it,
gentle yet firm.
She swam and sank deeper into
her boundless home,
twisting and dancing through the
Her family followed close behind her,
each discovering the security of the sea,
the safety of salt.
She knew that sooner or later she would have to
head up to the surface for air.
She knew what would be waiting.
Fear encroached as she rose above the levels,
calling out to her family to stay close
and not to stay up for too long.
Time had hardened her.
Each barnacle came together
like a kind of armor.
If only these strange, finless animals couldn’t survive
on the water.
If only they would stop killing her family members.
As her hard skin breeched the water’s surface,
She was to be gone.
She yelled for her children to swim deep,
And in the end,
she tasted salt.
And now I can taste hers.