a mermaid goes home
(with ochre drink at the exact nadir of my chin)
you’ve gotta go, this much is clear; enough sweet water & inland incognito, we’ve
long been looking at the best river for your return.
it’s a mako shark sorta day you muse, where the sky – the shark’s back – is iron gray
and then there is the white belly of snow in the cornfields.
let’s remain friends.
‘I can, can you?’
might as well take it; I’ve turned right so many times that I’ve come full circle thrice.
almost waterless, before you leave let’s secure between us at least the comfort that is
of a frozen lake: let’s make believe the ice can support the memory of our weight for
a while in the spring.
again, but with more air insufflated into it:
echoes in my glass.
About the author:
Daniel Aristi was born in Spain. He studied French Literature, then Economics, and then moved overseas. He now lives in Botswana with his wife, Reshma, and their daughter, lil'Ria. Daniel's work is forthcoming in Berkeley Poetry Review and has recently been featured in Shot Glass Journal and Great Weather for MEDIA.