Therianthropy

In this new year, I could shed
my selkie skin to dance under
moonlight on lonely shore,
but at what cost?

Water is life,
salt buoys my body.
The toll of transformation --  
painted toes in ruby tones,
limbs outstretched, entwined,
dark curls unfurled.

My sisters watch with baleful eyes,
heads bob just over sea’s surface.

The bonds once broken a siren call --  
elusive, insistent. They are the ones
who hold my head above water.