Category: SAMARA BABOOLAL

Piece of Sea

As the nighttime sighed, Mr. and Mrs. Caridad drifted into the same dream.
They lay face down on the ocean, floating along its silky surface, naked, and draped in moonlight’s velvety glow. The water was red, and it was white, and it was blue, all at the same time. Schools of silver-scaled fish, sparkling like jewels, swam eagerly into the open hands of the couple. Each fish multiplied, over and over, until the red-white-blue ocean was nothing but silver flesh and scale.

TONGUES

Mamie does practice she tongues until the night does come, and Daddy does walk in speaking his own tongues too. I does hear them converge, like the way the riptides at Mayaro does hook onto yuh foot and tug you beneath the sand, and suddenly you are locked somewhere in between sky and ocean and blackness and the silky floor of the sea.

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