from the sea floor I rise
the tide pulls and gives to the mossy shores
wet sand on my belly gathering dark green seaweed
the ocean gives birth to me
fossilizing centuries from the parted crimson tide
swaying palms bow to my presence
on the glimmering horizon
my eyes turquoise, hardened, my skin
like wet clay glistens under the red-orange sun
quiet are the footsteps of the natives
around me seashells echo the secrets of my people
inside me is the letter given to you as I exhale
and share the sea salt breeze
Meet Mago Contributor, Sandra Torrez.