My Son in the Sea by Lisa Zerkle

My Son in the Sea Lisa Zerkle Somehow he knows he can breathe in both water and air. See how he grows piscine,  dull on land, iridescent in the deep.Delicate flesh of my blood and my bone. How many bodies can this world hold?Men want to examine where exactly skin meets scale. You can’t have it both ways,   choose: man or fish? Not a man, say the men.  Don’t listen to them, sing the sirens, preening their feathers (being as they are  part woman, part bird). What will the fish say?Neptune, I’m counting on you in your pearl  and coral grotto, where distinctions are not so brightly lit, where sea horses are not  horses, where starfish are not fish, but stars.More from Lisa Zerkle ↓@hag_lore on InstagramListen to Lisa on Painted Bride Quarterly's Slush Pile podcast, where the editorial team discusses submissions, editorial issues, writing, deadlines, and cuckoo clocks.You can listen to me read Motherhood by Lisa on Instagram @rembrandts.cure