I am a fish - you are a fish
Dolphins once walked on land, didn’t they?
Were they always grey as your pocket square at the crest of the fish bowl at twilight?
Or did they wear coveralls
like your father the farmer ?
who sowed cotton for the town that no longer exists.
I am a dress - you are a dress
once worn to a Ball in Atlantis at midnight
waterproof and on a quest
to dance until our feet turned to fins - our sequins to scales
But we didn’t move fast enough,
and had to come up for air.
I am the water - you are the water
Current as the wish you made on the penny you threw into the bank account.
When did dreams on dollar bills become catch and release?
We’re not just building islands of plastic - but archipelagos of disposable fashion.
I am your friend - you are my friend.
Can we pretend I didn’t start any of this?
My siren song still sings for you.