Back to the Sea

Let me go back to the sea
where I began winged
and full of leap, skin sanded
by tides that brought me
to you.

Put me back
into the glass, wax the mouth –
I will hunker
until I break
and sink.

The North people say
I will come back to you
when I find my feet
again:

but I swallowed them
the day I remembered
the ocean, saw the current
returning
to my teeth.

I lied when I said
I would stay
until the moon died.
I was always moving
shoreline.