after Priscilla Wathington’s “Sea Legs”
and when the [ ] finally ended for good
we all ran to the sea
which was once blue
which we once tasted on our lips
as if kissed by the memory
of laughing fishermen, and children running free
with the sun in their mouths
and grandmothers preparing صيادية for all of us
our smiles wide as the open sky
and all of us are still here
and all of us are alive
and can remember the blue sea
which is now a color none of us can name
but we of the future know as intimately
as the eyes of our beloveds,
as clear as [ ].
