Sun presses against my skin,
I’m feeling a little seasick,
though my feet are solid on the beach.
Looking out on the ocean’s tides,
I see a mysterious figure
against the rocks in the distance.
Emerald eyes drift over the land I stand on,
and I catch her searching gaze.
The precarious waves roll against her back.
Cold ocean bites my ankles,
asking if it may consume me.
Her emeralds are calming,
and she knows
I am alone with her.
Yet she is neither afraid nor tense,
but intrigued.
Her golden hair mimics a setting sun,
and her skin reveals immortality.
Daringly she sings,
sounding like a thousand angels.
Yet she has no legs for dancing,
nor wings for soaring.
Those emeralds stab me.
Her voice invites me there.
She is crying to me.
Moments pass and she turns away,
leaving a waterfall in her wake.
Dreams of shining castles
and sunken ships manifest.
I want to follow her
into a utopia.
To reside in fantasy.
To dream of this no more.
I take a step.
And looking down in the water,
reflecting like a crystal mirror,
I remember who I am.
Fearful eyes hold me back,
I’m defeated by the sea.
So I breathe in
the deafening sound in my mind.
These waves, violent and unsteady,
would be my end.
I look out again,
cursing my clouded eyes.
I wish to have those emerald eyes,
to be as fearless as I am beautiful.
@imagecredit:Leslie Allen “Enchanted Mermaid”
j. r. wallington 