andromeda.

the mermaids kissed under the stars in the thick black water.

their bodies glowed in my eyes as they mingled and sang. sirens, singing me to sleep, to drown, in the never ending water. i could trace the stars with my thumb as they moved. (imagine, you’re alive for billions of years, knowing and seeing). the sirens sink to the deep thick bottom of the; river, lake, sea, ocean. their long hair sweeping their backs: burning their backs. burning constellations in their backs that i could trace with my thumb, nakedly, in the thick black; river, lake, sea, ocean, skies, galaxies. (imagine being alive for billions of years, until our galaxy collides with her). the sirens, the mermaids, they sing in the moon and the sea. they see what we don’t see. so i follow the mermaid and the constellations on her back as she brings me home to the sand dunes. shhhhh. hear the wasps and the crickets and the grains of sand moving against each other. the mermaids, they kiss in the water and i can see their skin glow, melding with the sky and moving into space. their skin watches the galaxies where they live. and they live; for millions of years, for billions of years and they kiss under the stars.

they see everything, the mermaids. with hair like trees of leaves. she tells me, shhhh. listen to the waves in the darkness and relax; the mermaids and their constellations in the river, lake, sea, ocean, galaxies.

the mermaid brought me to the sand dunes and gave me the sound of the water at night.