Mermaid

So I said, “Men, pull her out of the water
And then lay on hands
And bind back her flippers and tail
Until international waters. And there we’ll feel
What’s human inside of her.”

So she’s chilly and slick
On her hips where the scales meet with skin
With a sickening flick of her tail, circling
Her gills fill with cold, salty water
She thrashes and twirls, her freezing fins fluttering

And she’s pretty, I think
With her hair dark as ink, and her belly bone-white
And her lips, of a slight, sea-shell pink, slightly part
As she’s tonguing the tub’s rusty rim
As the saltwater flows out and in

All farewells to the land we knew well
We’d never be touching again
To the fields where we rambled and ran
Farewell to our wives and children
Let’s stand on the deck and let’s watch
Them all disappearing

And the days all float by
In a daze, over waves, under sky
And the weeks slowly leak into years
The last islands are all left behind as we silently sail

Until late some dark night, a wild wind starts to wail
And our map blows away
And our compasses fail
And it’s out on the lost boiling black water
Where I see her float out
And she’s so thin and so pale. I see her rise up
And she’s so fast and so fair. My hands meet
And they press to a point in the air

But my mouth fills with more panic than prayer
And my skull fills with more color than care
And my heart fills with love, with too much love to bear
And I know that I’ll stay, and that she’ll always be there
My hands sunk in cold sand
Sea-weed strung through her hair