Ariel, Or, How I Wish I Were a Mermaid

September 15, 2009
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I used to look through my picture books, and see her, seaweed hair interwoven
with shells, and pearls, that sparkled, shimmered, somehow, under the water,
glowed. I was always so jealous of her, her eyes made of old sea glass,
her lips were broken pieces of coral – kiss till soft, but few dared.
I could never understand, my own hair faded brown, my lips
were soft – not jagged, my eyes were faded imitation
of the book’s pictures .

I used to take flotsam, wear it like a wig,
dangled jetsam over my ears for jewelry.
But when I dove down, it all washed off,
leaving me a little sandy,
a little tired,
and a lot

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