divinity mustn’t cry

I. coral musings

i wonder if the air i breathe is mine

or if stability is the falsified working of a dying seamstress:

masterfully pinned in place

on the surface of glassy earth.

hollow on the inside,

fraying where tight stitches should yield in hard times:

cavities forming in darker frameworks

of a deeper net holding more watery life.

II. the uncollected scrapbook

i, afterbirth of a manifestation,

the greatest beauty to rise from the sea.

she was softness and roses and kisses on young cheeks.

i was the mass of seafoam gathered at her feet.

she is pearl where i am calloused

and i know comparison kills the cat

the way curiosity stabs fledgling dreams but

the irony is a porcelain version of my being

would lose in a heartbeat to a mud clay semblance

of her goodness.

III. whispered realities to the myth

i was not born to die yet my instructions were unclear.

fall in love.

watch them leave as the seas belt low Cs

and their hair grays while mine stays.

grant a wish,

not knowing that fate has other plans so

i unknowingly cast an end upon someone

i would have gifted my deathlessness if only

i could be loved like a mortal.