Thursday, April 7, 2016

When We Were Tadpoles

I miss the clouds of minnows
that would swarm about your form that shone
in the murky depths in the marsh that we were born in

I miss my gills, I’ve never gotten used
to the heaving bellows of these lungs,
to the taste of air, to these endless heavy gulps

I miss the streamlined body of my youth,
I miss my smooth and glassy skin,
I miss how fast I darted through the muck
I miss my tail

I don’t know why we ever let ourselves
be forced from our womb, never understood
why we didn’t fight harder to stay under
We used to soar beneath the surface,
now all we can do is awkwardly hop across
this strange, dry world we don’t belong in.

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