anything can happen

i can be swallowed whole by the sea

i can be the wave that does us all in

the fish that nibbles on your flesh.

anything can happen

you will forget me and i’ll be under the boat

watching you grieve and then try to decide which is the least touristy taco joint for dinner

“they’re all touristy!” i gargle underwater. “you can’t escape white capitalism!”
i’ll learn spanish now that i live here.

the barracuda that inhabit the waters will expect me to.

i’ll hunt for coral. i hear it’s pretty.

i’ll bemoan the loss of my legs as they eventually form a fish tail.

i’ll vaguely remember that 80s movie with tom hanks and the mermaid.

anything can happen

maybe my husband will remarry.

maybe he’ll grow old and gristly with weathered leathery hands gripping the wheel of an old boat he named after me, looking for me

maybe fish people don’t age. especially asian fish people.

maybe i’ll come to him in a dream and tell him to let me go

because anything can happen.