There were no seals today
We left no footprints
Only bubbles and ripples upon the water
Where we broke through the liquid glass
Dappled with sea foam and a few early leaves, brown and wet like our skin
Our orange buoys followed close behind us, beacons to each other and the eyes in the trees, the houses
Watching
Bright green seaweed reached up towards us from below, swaying ever so gently upon the tidal currents
One glowing white yellow jelly loomed below in the murky water
I swam towards it, caution and curiosity holding hands
Like a proud bride, owning the room, the white billowing dress feathered in sinewy strands, the dance commenced
In utter silence. There was no band, no DJ, no voices
In slow motion the jellyfish opened its bell, opened and ever so peacefully rose towards the sky below the water
Lace and ribbons of white appeared below the bell flower, I sucked in air and stared through the water again
At the edge of the dance, I watched and waited like a wallflower waiting to be asked onto the floor
To spin and twirl and dance among its tendrils, to live within the folds of lace
So delicate, so steady—raw and white as fresh snowflakes
I knew nothing would remain of us here
No feet to leave marks upon a bottomless floor
No forgotten belongings, no wilted corsage or grass stained veil strewn over a folding chair
The water would erase everything
Melt everything
We would leave no trace, just raw water
But we both will remember we danced here
It is written upon the memory of the waves, held in the air within a single bubble
I know this for the bubble was mine
And it burst
And I kept dancing through saltwater for dear life
Swimming helps me breathe
I swim to breathe and breathe to swim
Mary Swims 