Dove Cooper - Sea Foam and Silence

I dont remember Being born. I dont remember. I dont Remember. But I remember being different. I remember. My sisters eeling through the waters, Up and ever up, to where the tall-crabs are.

Laughter bouncing through the waves, As the tall-crabs and their moving lands fall. I remember. Being left behind because I am too little, Around and around, staying down low. Making my own paths through the waters, As I flit between the sunken wreckage. I remember. My first time following my sisters, Up and ever up, though theres no storm.

Song spouting from our hearts like whales, As we sit on warm, rough rock. I remember. Being scared of the thunder, The quick way it all turns bottom-dark. My sisters laughing and pushing me into the water, As they look for signs of the moving land. I remember. The quick vicious biting of my sisters As I ask them why we do this.

The pull of joining them in their hunt For tall-crabs that dont belong in the water. I remember. Tall-crabs arent like crabs. Not really. Crabs are hard and cute. They pinch.

Tall-crabs Tall-crabs can move like crabs. I like that about them. They can pinch you too If you pull them down after a storm, But its Its not much of a pinch. You can barely feel it. Tall-crabs have shells too, But theyre not very useful. You tear them off quick as biting.

Im not sure why they have such soft shells. I want to ask why. My sisters do not know or care. Tall-crabs are easy food, Better than fish or sharks. But why do tall-crabs have such soft shells? When I was small My sisters would tell me stories About what its like to hunt the tall-crabs. The quick flick-flick of your tail, Their fingers scratching at your scales.

It sounded adventurous. It sounded daring. It sounded fun. So the first time my sisters let me join them I am excited. ^_^ I will get to see my first tall-crab! We sit on the small island, Or lounge against the rock, The hunting song spilling from us And I do not know it yet. My sisters have chased me to the highest spot So that Im the first one to see the moving land.

Tall-crabs! Soon I will see my first tall-crab! But my sisters do not let me move Away from the rock. Ive messed up the hunting song too much. My eldest sister says It means that I am still too small. My youngest sister was just as small as I am When she caught her first tall-crab. So I watch them from a distance, See the way that the tall-crabs move in the storm. They look so small from where I am.

They dart around like tiny fish But with less freedom. I wonder why. Why must tall-crabs always be in contact With some part of the moving land? The first time I see a tall-crab, I can only watch my sisters bring it down. I do not accompany my sisters again. Not the next time they hunt for tall-crabs. Not the time after that.

I swim in the depths, alone, Eating whatever else I can find, Until my sisters come looking for me. They swarm around me, Family-school that we are, And together we circle all the way up. Back to the rocks where we call the tall-crabs. Back to the light where I am too small to hunt. We are a family. We swim together.

Lonely.
My sisters and I are playing When one of us is caught in the net. She screams. She screams and we scream And she thrashes and we dart and eel around her, Trying to find a way to free her. The net is hardly visible, Only scale-glimmer bright. I scream. I float. I drift. I drift.

The net coils around me like an eel, Slips underneath my scales so fine. It hurts. Nets are strong, but teeth are stronger. Nipping bites that fill the sea with pieces of us. My sisters and I are free. We are wounded and in pain.

Today, we shall not eat the tall-crabs. Today, we hunt to soothe our roaring hearts. Too weak to hunt, I stay behind and rest. The rock is slick beneath me, The sun is warm above me. I tilt my face towards it. My sisters do not care for the sun.

It dries our skin too much. But today I do not care about my sisters. It tingles, this sun. I slip back into the water And look for a place where I can float. I want the sun on my face, To keep feeling that That. I do not want to dry out, either.

That is why I let only my face peek out of the water. For a moment, I wonder what it must be like To feel this all day long. Such a strange thing. I am glad my sisters are away hunting Because I do not think they would understand. No. I know they would not understand.

I find myself dozing in the water And a song comes burbling from my throat. It isnt a strong song, Nor one my sisters would know. It is mine. Mine and the suns. I wonder whether any of my sisters have a song that Is theirs alone. I wonder I cant be the only one with a song.

Can I? It takes a long time For my sisters to return. In that time, I have watched the dry sea change And the sun sink below the waves Where none of us have ever found it. When they return they bring with them tall-crab And tall-crab shell. The shell trails from my sister like algae. Coarse like our own bodies, it caught her. It fits around her torso, has room for her arms.

We laugh at her and dance around her. We take playful nips and make playful nudges. Soon we are all laughing. Soon we all sprawl on the rock, Watching as the dry sea comes to glow. Soon we sing to our long-lost sisters Who are hailing us from above. We are always singing, My sisters and I.

It is a comfortable time, All of us fitted together around the rock, Skin against skin. Could we stay like this forever? For a long time, I do not heal. For a long time, my sisters will not let me join them. I am still only small. (Not that small anymore.) And I slow them down. I want to catch my first tall-crab.

Im tired of being considered small. Im going to change that. Without the help of my sisters. They left me behind And who needs a school anyway? I want to see tall-crabs. On my own and without my sisters. I want to see tall-crabs And prove that Im big enough to hunt.

If I can catch a tall-crab on my own, Just me, me alone, My sisters will have to let me join them. I wont be too small then. I wont be lonely then. So, when my sisters have left me, And I can no longer feel them in the water, I leave them too. I will search for the moving lands And see the tall-crabs. I will follow the moving lands And catch a tall-crab.

We hunt as a school. I will be the first to kill a tall-crab All on my own. It is a little frightening, But I will find them. I will find the tall-crabs And bring one home. The first night on my own Is frightening for its loneliness. Its not that I havent been alone before My sisters have abandoned me to hunt And left me to fend for myself for days But I have never been alone by my choice.

I have never been alone in waters that My sisters and I have not explored together. I have never been alone in places I dont know. That is what frightens me. More than anything, that Is what is making my heart race. There is darkness, yes, But there is always darkness in the night. There is cold, yes, But the water is no colder than otherwise.

It just seems that way. I do not sleep at all that night. My bones sing for my sisters to join me. My tail aches with the need to keep on swimming. An octopus sends me scuttling back to familiar waters. I am partway home when I make myself stop.

I should think, consider, prepare. Do I go on? Do I go back? If I swim all the way home, now, will I ever go? No. I must go now. Tonight. If I am to catch a tall-crab on my own Then I must have courage and leave. I will not be frightened by an octopus.

I will not be swayed so easily by my own heart. The first night on my own, I swim as fast and as far as I dare. Because I will not return to my sisters And the further I go, the harder it is to return. The first night on my own, I do not sleep at all. I do not even think beyond the notion of further. :( The further I swim from my sisters The more empty the sea begins to feel. :( The further I swim from my sisters The more empty the sea begins to feel.