Eadith Marie

The first time I saw the sea
I was so naive.

Still spotless, in a sense.
Not pure, not poised
but innocent of life’s depth.

Like that sea, off the Long Island pier,
choppy and menacing.

December of my twenty second year
Newly enthralled, missing someone
who would take all that I had.

Now I am missing me.

I dance with her on dark sandy dunes
that overlook
the sea of despair that he left me with.

Hoping that summer brings some relief,
calmer waters through which I can see
beyond the depths
to that day I first felt ocean spray

Find my essence, so long spent
trapped under one hundred and eighty leagues of resentment
So that I may become a vessel for you

She has to be below those waves.
If not, I cannot be certain
that she is anywhere at all.