You reached into my back pocket and removed a long-forgotten five dollar bill, as if to demonstrate that I still had my share of secrets up my sleeve or down my pants; things magical more in some hidden depth. It seemed paltry: the amount I had and your gesture, both. The words I didn’t say in that moment wouldn’t have been enough either, so I double-pathetically kept my mouth shut. But I wanted to ask, did you know that we had gill slits in the womb? Five breathing flower neck petals, turned into ear lobes and tongues and vocal cords, the better to talk and listen and share this conscious plane. The more to writhe on the tile floor. It’s a shame that I can’t breathe and talk at the same time because I wanted to ask you, has it been so long that you’ve forgotten what saltwater tastes like?  From behind the remains of my last branchial arch, you pulled a quarter and said, “Penny for your thoughts”. If you could hold the ocean up to your ear you’d hear me whisper that I want us to go back. If we could go far enough the recapitulation ceases. But there’s a swirling dark break that I can’t get beyond and it keeps me sleepless tossing turning under eyelids. Even if it means oblivion and a memory span that ensures I’ll forget you already, it’s better than drying out here topside, in this skin that isn’t even mine to die in.

You reached into my back pocket and removed a long-forgotten five dollar bill, as if to demonstrate that I still had my share of secrets up my sleeve or down my pants; things magical more in some hidden depth. It seemed paltry: the amount I had and your gesture, both. The words I didn’t say in that moment wouldn’t have been enough either, so I double-pathetically kept my mouth shut. But I wanted to ask, did you know that we had gill slits in the womb? Five breathing flower neck petals, turned into ear lobes and tongues and vocal cords, the better to talk and listen and share this conscious plane. The more to writhe on the tile floor. It’s a shame that I can’t breathe and talk at the same time because I wanted to ask you, has it been so long that you’ve forgotten what saltwater tastes like? 

From behind the remains of my last branchial arch, you pulled a quarter and said, “Penny for your thoughts”. If you could hold the ocean up to your ear you’d hear me whisper that I want us to go back. If we could go far enough the recapitulation ceases. But there’s a swirling dark break that I can’t get beyond and it keeps me sleepless tossing turning under eyelids. Even if it means oblivion and a memory span that ensures I’ll forget you already, it’s better than drying out here topside, in this skin that isn’t even mine to die in.