and my addiction workbook. I learn
that the most entrancing kind of mermaid
is fish above the waist
because no one can hear her speak.
I pray through cavewater-filtered sunlight for someone to rescue me
from my father
and I almost become a real girl myself— It happens when I see a man
opportunistically shipwrecking;
I return his body to the same shore he started from
and renounce my entire sea.
When the time comes I will steal back
my own voice just to tell
the lover all about my love, thus become
fully real girl, become
no-fish-at-all girl—
not one cragged scale between us.
Addiction workbook suggests:
Erase all scenes where the lover hasn’t kissed you yet
and saves you anyway.
The lover always gets theirs first is always a clueless trinket collector
turning you around in the light so you can better watch their lips
call you the wrong name: The water of it feels better
inside the mouth.
Addiction workbook suggests:
Erase all scenes where the father and the jealous witch
have different bodies.
Remember, under the mythology of their flesh they are both only one
trident with the same three tips fitted correctly
to the yielding caves between your ribs.
Addiction workbook suggests:
If the ocean is the childhood erase
all of its water the moment you earn your legs.
If you want the voice, as well erase almost all guilt on behalf
of those exposed fish snapping—
briefly—
on the sand. Leave only
enough regret to keep you human.
Look—
when parched as a naked rib the whole world becomes the shore
where you began and will end.
Nicole Connolly
Nicole Connolly lives and works in Orange County, CA, which she promises is mostly unlike what you see on TV. She received her MFA from Bowling Green State University, and her work has appeared in such journals as Assaracus, Pithead Chapel, The Rush, and Five 2 One. She currently serves as Managing Editor for the poetry-centric Black Napkin Press.
Latest posts by Nicole Connolly (see all)
- My Inner Child is an Erasure of The Little Mermaid, According to EMDR - November 10, 2017
