i never knew my mother. i have a vague idea of an agile figure hovering, covering, hovering. sudden movements, but always under the cover of a shape, always in the shadow of a limb, calm ever returning to the pool of my brothers and sisters. we all had the vague but similar images, as if there was constantly some danger that could not touch us or affect us, as if we were ever watched, ever rinsed, ever covered loosely but effectively and never left out in the open, oxygen passed to our cells diligently. 156, 157, 158, 159, 160... this was the thirteenth time i count mine today. i have weaved them neatly together as they should be, small branches of eggs. i do not want to think of what awaits me, but i can not help myself... i blow water over the eggs to keep the fine sand from settling on them. i tentatively slide my arms over them to feel the texture. firm and smooth and above all, translucent, not milky. i have gotten used to the humans. they seem to just want to look at what i do. or do not do. they watch me for hours. watch how i do not move from this vertical rock. watch how i do not eat. watch how i cover my babies. they have been here eighteen times now, in fifty-three dark moons, silently watching what i do not do...i know they mean me no harm. i see the look in their eyes. sad ,as they think i am too. i see the shock when they come down every time and they see my pale purple skin has turned a whiter shade of pale, mottled still, but undeniably lighter and the loose skin that folds over the loss of my weight...i wait for the crabs and the fish and push them away, push them, push them. these are my only eggs. my only babies. my only life. i do not eat. i know that soon i will blow them on their way into the depths. and i will die. i do not want to die. i do not want to send them off. but the only thing worse than seeing them move to the surface, is not doing so. they will never know i ate their father and that not one of my three hearts belonged to him...
Joined:Jul 27, 2012 02:22PM