Ten of Cups: Seabed

What if I told you that you’re a fishbone,

my backbone formed from ancient times, 

that your slippery fin and tail are adored

more than any over-gazed rainbow or sunset,

that you wear fluttering seaweed best,

and I don’t even look at suited wo/men. 

What if I told you that your love is water,

I don’t sip on it, I gulp it down with thirst,

that it flows into my soil, doesn’t stick or stale,

so easy even for someone who doesn’t like easy, 

that I long for your gills to wrap me in soft bubbles 

like a weightless coat, thicker than my own skin. 

What if I told you all that, would you think 

I’m a capricious water sign, quite smitten 

with you in my own weird way, or that I’m 

a lunatic, because I’m not, I’m a Virgo sun 

and rising in fact, and you just taught me

how to float in your waters.

Christina Hennemann (she/her) is a poet and prose writer based in Ireland. Her poetry pamphlet “Illuminations at Nightfall” was published by Sunday Mornings at the River in 2022. She’s the winner of the Luain Press Prize 2022, was shortlisted in the Anthology Poetry Award & Dark Winter Contest, and longlisted in the National Poetry Competition. Her work appears in Poetry Wales, Skylight 47, The Moth, York Literary Review, fifth wheel, Ink Sweat & Tears, Moria, National Poetry Month Canada, and elsewhere.

Find her online: www.christinahennemann.com and on Twitter: @chr_writer