If I Were Silent, Still

by

Madeline Tomasoa

You see me in the shape of water,
How my arms reach to you
Outstretched,
Begging you to breathe, to take
A moment and rekindle. To light
Yourself for me.

Seek me in the murky waters,
Find my face hidden in the banks
Where I’ll likely be smiling when.
Hold the shadow of me against the sun,
Watch our bodies collide
And separate into our own likenesses.

You see me by the rocks, calling
Your name in between
Shallow waters, the line of your
Touch soft against my skin.
Tell the sea that you love her,
And may she love you back.

Madeleine Tomasoa is a writer from Jakarta, Indonesia. They are the current Assistant Editor for Sledgehammer Lit and can be found watching cars go around in a circle for fun.