Surfacing

by Christos Polydorou

mermalesI don’t want to think it.
Sometimes I am thought of.
Often I can feel it.

Like within my own skin.
An answer.
I reflect.

I have no power, one in six billion?
How could I jinx it?
Yet we occasionally think this.

Birds have hollow bones,
ours are full of carbon.
In this we are connected,

so throw me a rope.
Hoist me up a ship.
Rarely do mermales

emerge for anything.
They surfaced for you:
Be true.

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