I did not know color even as I could feel your blue, your sudden waves of gray sunk deep beneath their verdant vegetation.
I could not have imagined the intricacy of your eyes; how a holding pattern could bleed two watchful pools of self-reflection.
When we were ocean I did not know what to call you, nothing felt true enough – salt? bone? earth?
When we were ocean it did not matter that we were stuck and buoyant- we taught ourselves soft and still, spent eternities making eyes at the moon, playing games with her phases.
When we were ocean we did not think in clouds, or snow caps, frost or April rain, never once considered or measured the feeling of being cradled from the inside of a glass room.
When we were ocean, we weren’t sea or river, or lake or stream and it never occurred to us to mind the aching gaps of all that liquid love.
When we were ocean We. Were. Ocean. never questioning the nature of our belonging, never denouncing or trying to live separately of it.
about this poem
some belated earth day love created in & inspired by a gorgeous circle of women & writers I get the great opportunity to be & write with once a week. this poem is also inspired quite directly by the poem “Singularity” by Marie Howe and perhaps most succinctly from her line “–when we were ocean ” it’s something I think about quite a lot: the before, the after; it helps me regain perspective and respite when it all feels too much. thanks for reading ! xo, Stephanie
santos scribes 
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