Ancestor

Jayne Macke

English Major—2nd Year

I used to live underwater—

in the dark fathoms the boundless gulf: the salt in my veins chilled by the currents and the dim blue light

wavers constantly over my scales.

I used to live underwater—

And then I heard a song from above.

Where they scuttle in the sunlight and squirm in warm sand. I am jealous and I am tired of swimming.

I sew up my gills unfurl my lungs

slice the webs between my toes

and taste the air on my tongue

The moon is up the sun is down

when I crawl onto the rocks

it burns to breathe it aches to blink

choking, singing

it’s torment to speak

my fins have gone dry and no one told me it would be this cold.

I used to live underwater—

But that was a very long time ago.

Only my skin remembers now

when it wrinkles in the bath and shivers at the sight of a blue and black

abyss.