March 21, 2026

there is a blue lagoon offset from the sea
that calls to me
that calls to my ancestry

but we gave up fins and tails
and gills and frills
long ago
so very long ago

so i dip my two separate legs inside
and lean my bony back beside
and look at the storm clouds racing
and i think about the oceans rising and rising
and whether i can take back a deal made centuries ago

was my great great great great great great great grandmother a fool
or did she know something then
i can’t possibly know
now
[just as now i am so highly aware
of things she’d never even dream of]

but all i can do
until i meet someone who
can exchange this blessing-turned-curse
is sit and lie and dip and swim and wish
beside this blue lagoon
separate but still somehow part of the ocean

[how can i bring myself back to that part of me
or will i always remain so
separately]

March 8, 2026

the rapture didn’t come like how we’d been taught

we thought
standing around
perhaps asleep
perhaps in prayer
we’d
just be levitated from our bodies
up
and up
and up to heaven
instantaneous
immediate
immaculate

but the rapture took so damn long

trekking from old homes to new ones
each more dilapidated
less clean
than the last

there was very little sleep
and even less prayer
towards the end
crossing borders
swept into vans
when least expected
[i suppose at least that one
was instantaneous
and immediate]
[but the insides of those vans
could hardly be called
immaculate]

and now here i am
being told that this final step
is the real rapture

but haven’t i been told that
for each step of the way

i’m starting to stray from my faith

and this tiny cup of gross-smelling liquid
barely coated by some sickly sweet scent
over top of it…
i thought the rapture was something that would happen to me
but it looks like i happen to it
i control it
but maybe
just maybe
i’m sick of all this rapturing

maybe i wanna try my luck, after all this time, with the heathens