I used to sell seashells...
I lived my life tethered to the seashore, happily hopping from sand to sea as I peddled the ocean's crafts

I used to swim
I stood in swanny lakes with wet ankles
Wading into grey waters
I used to swim until every inch of my arms ached
My chest welling with the waves
My hair waving to the heavens
Which were never far from the ocean's bottom...
The ocean, which is only as deep as my love
(but when my love is the ocean)
I guess I'll never see the sandy shores of the sea's lowest levels

I loved the tang of salt and tangles of seaweed with which my love greeted me
I relished la belle mer et son embrace
But no language can capture the beauty of my love

I sang only songs of ocean swells
Yes, I was that vendor of seashells
I helped the water carve beahes
Spelling out sounds from the sails
And at night I could hear the music of blue whales
Their watery rhythms winding through my ears until their tunes were wrapped firmly around my heart

I never swam far enough to see them

My love for my home waxed with the moon
But I never payed attention to the moon as it waned
Until I sold my shells-and my soul-
To the boy with eyes like the full moon
The boy whose eyes were grey like the waters
The boy who gave the shells I used to sell to the girl with eyes as blue as where the sea meets the sky

I followed their eyes from my oceanic cradle
I left my seashells behind and stepped onto ground much more hard than the sand and clay of the sea
I walked until I couldn't hear the water calling me
I followed the chatter of my last customers until it stilled like the sea on a warm night
I walked until I was deep in a city rather than deep in the frothy foam of my old home
I walked
And walked
And walked

I walked until I forgot how to swim