Mermaid

My t-shirt doesn’t look the same,
her hair collapses against her back
and she is a blue sea beauty
landed on my sandy floors

Gasping in her legs and arms
and mouth, bone and flesh
She is gritty between my teeth
but she is still inside of me

fleeing, returning rightly
my arms recall her form each
time, a tidal wave I see but
can’t escape

And if I let her think a while
maybe she’ll love me better
and then she won’t call her
memories like breaths of air

flickers of cigarettes discarded,
and I’m siren-struck by that
hair, oceans on her back
I don’t taste nicotine, just salt

my little mermaid
my little seafoam

By Jennifer Simmons