the torso of a woman with the tail of a fish...

Today,

I sat down on the tram

directly opposite a mermaid.

I only realised that she was one,

because

(in more recent times)

I have kissed more than the salt

from a mermaid's chest.

(I have also

massaged her perfect back

while she lay spread underneath me

like a beautiful starfish.)

The mermaid across from me on the tram

notices my stare,

sees in my eyes the recognition

of who she is

and where she has come from.

She seems uncomfortable

about her beautiful tail,

attempts to hide it

underneath her beautiful blue coat.

She looks around her longingly

(and with envy)

at all the other women's legs

on the tram...

I (too) in a different kind of longing

want to take her hand in mine,

reassure her.

Tell her

"it's going to be okay".

But I don't,

because I silently sense

everything is not going to be okay.

I do not wish to give her false hope.

The tram passes effortlessly

like a giant fish

through St. Kilda,

and as the doors briefly hiss open & closed,

the smell of the sea

fills my nose.

Glancing upwards again,

I see fishing hooks & nets

of numerous men

reflected

in her big, sad

sea-green eyes.

She touches her neck,

shivers, sighs,

glances downwards

at the floor of the tram.

I notice a small puddle of sea-water

appearing at the base of her tail.

In my head,

I hear the ghostly call of fog horns,

shrieking of gulls,

a captain's bell,

creaking hulls.

I close my eyes for a moment,

I am taken back to another time...

I am sitting on a tiny bed.

A woman sits opposite me.

I take her trembling hand in mine,

look her in the eyes and

tell her I love her.

She looks at me,

her eyes filling with tears,

and says:

"I think I love you, too."

All about the bed sea-water rises,

swirling.

I hold her gently as she cries,

I feel her tears wetting

my neck and shoulder. 

I look around the room,

and see nothing I own

holding great value anymore.

All I need  and want

is right here in my arms.

The water continues to rise around us...

The sudden clang of the tram bell

makes me open my eyes.

I am back in the tram,

and sitting opposite the mermaid.

Our eyes meet silently again.

She glances again down at her tail.

I want to reassure her,

tell her that I won't give up her secret

to the other passengers

on the tram.

I open my mouth,

but the words fail me.

I wonder to myself

whether seahorses too

silently curse their beauty,

their allocated heads & bodies 

and silently wish to be

more like the other sea-life...?

And starfish?

What of starfish??

Do they wish

that they had been blessed

with any other shape

but that of constellations?

I too, at times

(although not many men admit it)

have often cursed this masculine physique.

Why would one choose to be

landlocked in this body of a man?

It is not what I would have chosen...

No,

had I been given the choice

I would have preferred

(perhaps):

The wings of an eagle,

the torso of a woman

and the head of a tiger.

Outside the tram,

it has grown dark now.

I am nearing my stop.

I pull the bell.

Looking over at the mermaid once last time,

I can hear my heart

beating in my ears.

She is the most beautiful woman

I have ever seen...

I search for the words to tell her

before I disembark,

but courage fails me.

I quickly fumble in the pocket of my coat

and pull out an old, crumpled envelope.

As my stop gets ever closer,

I quickly write a jumble of words

on the back of the envelope...

"If the stars up in the heavens

had just one desire, this is what they'd silently wish /

They'd ask for the torso of a woman

and the tail of a fish;

I am sorry that I (too) failed you,

I hope that you find a better, braver man than me /

And If these words that I write were waves

I would offer up for you the sea..."

The doors leap open!

I awkwardly manoeuver

my landlocked legs

past the mermaid,

thrust the envelope

into her trembling hands.

She smiles for me

a tiny smile,

more apparent in her sea-green eyes

than in her mouth.

I smile back,

and in that moment

I somehow narrowly avoid

slipping in the tiny pool of sea-water

at the base of her tail...

And for that briefest of moments,

I sense

she loves her tail again.

Our eyes hold onto each other

as I boldly step backwards

down the tram steps into the street below.

Metal doors snap shut.

I get one last look at the mermaid

before she and the tram

disappear into the murky night,

much like a fish disappears

into deeper waters.

I feel an ocean of pride & courage

swell within this fragile

Watersign frame.

And as I lightly step towards home,

thinking of the mermaid,

I feel a tiny shudder

in the eagle's wings on my back...

  

(c) Brent M Harpur, 2013.

"When the mind is at sea, a new word provides a raft." (Goethe)

"Oh, that I could shrink the surface of the world, so that suddenly

  I might find you standing at my side." (Wang Chien)