My ocean

Sometimes I wonder if he fears that I will return to the ocean. I feel him twitch in his sleep and I lay awake hoping he isn’t dreaming of the glitter on my tail. I rub my feet together and feel the skin coarse where my scales are usually soft, hard nail where my tassel fins would once tickle each other.

I rest my head on his chest and breathe his heartbeat. I twist my ankles around his as a reminder that I am there beside him. I whisper in his ear a song that will ease his terror; my love, you are my ocean.

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