"Yes, Nicole, breathing is good for you."

Underwater, your song fills my mind,

spheres full of oxygen, racing, glittering over our heads.

I try to catch your racing breath

as it rushes out of reach.

I think to myself "this must be the atlantic"

because inside my blood is getting cold and slow

and it's nothing like the volcanic ocean I love back home.

But as the waves come, they roll me far away

and I feel myself lose sight of your face.

Your face - and the pockets full of air and light.

Echos of your song, breaking the surface of the sky

with tangled seaweed and sweetgrass and clouds and Chronos keeping time.

But I let the dread stay inside

because eventually, I'll come up for air,

and find the land you promised would be there.