I was born in a tiny town
by the ocean.
I’ve always felt saltwater
runs through my veins,
comforting and refreshing
but not palatable.
My body is an ocean
beautiful and terrifying.
The ocean is dying.
My body is aging.
My tiny ocean town
seemed a dreamy place to live.
We didn’t live there.
We moved to a landlocked state
when I was an infant.
Only visiting the ocean
in the summertime
like tourists.

The ocean has never been my home.
My body has not been my home.
Though I visit both from time to time.