May 5, 2017 | Solo Show | Jai & Jai Gallery
The day you became a fish, my mind became the sea.
Long ago, when you kissed the waves on your mother’s hair goodbye, I stood there by the fire and listened to the radio sing from its gut before it cackled away with the flames. In a different hemisphere, you danced until your shoes became untied, then you danced until your feet became bare, and you could feel the sand underneath you.
The sunset didn’t ask for your permission before it sank too deep.
That night, I imagined the universe standing still as we walked past the sleeping roadside flowers to the granite valley. We counted the stars through watery eyes and chased them as they slipped past our trying gazes. In the darkness, you wondered why we often show affection through gifts destined to wither and die.
Three billion years away, a galaxy perishes, and a plane tumbles against crashing waves in the Pacific. That night, you became a fish, and my mind became the sea still warm from the afternoon heat.