If my ribs are cut from the same mammal bone
as whales, when you laid your head against my chest
you heard the ocean and perhaps for a second
you thought you were drowning and maybe my heart
beat so hard the growing tides almost took you
and maybe when I said “anything for you,” my
breath tasted too much like saltwater to remind
you we were still standing on dry land, not drifting
into the open and empty blue of everything we can’t
see beneath the surface, but I told myself you were
just lost in wonder like a child with their nose
pressed against the glass of an aquarium,
trying to find their sea legs.