I’m beyond the wooden houses
on stilts anchored in muck, beyond
where grizzlies dig for clams
exposed when the tide goes out
& sunlight fills the slough.
Around my waist, algae—green skin
taut as milk heated over a flame.
The grainy mud moves
as I move, expanding, contracting
between the pressure
of my toes.
These legs & lungs evolved
to enter other worlds
but not to stay. Brackish animal,
I dive into the salt
& roots to be in two places
at once: half air, half
water, rippling outward.