True Blues

A postpartum dream

Is to wake to carnations

The color of sapphire.

Instead my ring finger is naked

Swelled by falsity

And plastic.

Let me feel liquid love and fluid appreciation

An absence of tears

And toddler whimpers.

My nights are cauterized

By the slow lull of the ocean

Curving the nightmares.

The singing sea

Guiding me

Please don’t let me go.

I use to encase myself

In waters so deep

A bottom unseen.

Baths become a sanctuary

I want to slide deeper

Into an abyss.

You call my name

“Mommy why don’t you swim?”

I use to but now I just won’t.

God don’t let us sink

My son

I’d rather see you float.