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Description
My selkie girl
stares out the window when she cooks,
drifts, when in conversation.
And though I love her,
I know her heritage pulls her toward the shoreline
like a magnet towards iron.
I kiss her hair and she tells me she loves me.
I believe her, but
at night when I put my head on her chest I can hear the ocean.

I see the other fishermen's wives,
who wear faces similar to my selkie's,
although they have never played in kelp forests,
or known the feel of sun on flippers.

And I begin to wonder if maybe all girls
are pulled towards the shoreline,
maybe all girls
have an ocean knocking against their ribs.

My selkie girl
takes long baths,
and basks in the sun in her corner of the garden,
where the sunflowers grow.
And though I love her,
I know she must walk in her own skin,
and chase that ocean pounding within her chest.

Description
My selkie girl
stares out the window when she cooks,
drifts, when in conversation.
And though I love her,
I know her heritage pulls her toward the shoreline
like a magnet towards iron.
I kiss her hair and she tells me she loves me.
I believe her, but
at night when I put my head on her chest I can hear the ocean.

I see the other fishermen's wives,
who wear faces similar to my selkie's,
although they have never played in kelp forests,
or known the feel of sun on flippers.

And I begin to wonder if maybe all girls
are pulled towards the shoreline,
maybe all girls
have an ocean knocking against their ribs.

My selkie girl
takes long baths,
and basks in the sun in her corner of the garden,
where the sunflowers grow.
And though I love her,
I know she must walk in her own skin,
and chase that ocean pounding within her chest.