Bluest Part of You
My hand is entirely a nurse shark. So is yours, and it’s my favorite thing about you. It’s the thing about hands no one ever talks about. How they are always so many things at once. Hard and soft. Fist and blue whale. I remember when I first leapt upward from the waves I was just so goddamn happy to finally see you. So surprised, because you were beaming, and I couldn’t breathe at all, and none of that mattered. I recognized you by your scent. By the tracers you left in the salt behind you. I saw that our blood was the same blood. And that it wasn’t even blood, not really, just a parade of jellyfish. All of them thick and perfect and swirling like mad inside our bodies. The applause so deafening. So loud it simply drowned us. You and I, placed on either edge of this constant encore. Our finest moment. This huge glowing ballet.